


Dark As Midnight

by FluffyAngstWriter



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Brain Damage, Broken Bones, Brotherly Love, Drowning, Electrocution, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fake Character Death, Gen, Head Injury, Heavy Angst, Hugs will come, Hurt Leonardo (TMNT), Hurt/Comfort, I hope, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lots of Hurts, Major Character Injury, Not Really Character Death, Not beta read we die like Splinter, Sad, Self Confidence Issues, Sorry Not Sorry, Starvation, TCEST DON'T TOUCH THIS WITH A 10-FOOT POLE, Temporary Amnesia, Torture, Unreliable Narrator, Waterboarding, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25791952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyAngstWriter/pseuds/FluffyAngstWriter
Summary: There have been suspicious happenings over Manhattan, and no Foot attacks. Leonardo, concerned about his brothers' safety, goes to check them out. The outcome isnotdesirable...
Relationships: Donatello & Leonardo & Michelangelo & Raphael & Splinter (TMNT)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	1. Normal Day... Right?

Neon lights from tall buildings, bright signs, and cars flashed from all around, although they were subdued. The loud noises of the city drowned out quite a bit of the other sounds, but not entirely, as even that was quiet, which was unsual for such a large city, even when they weren't in the bigger parts of New York. They were stationed out in Manhattan, that was where they lived. They didn't have large skyscrapers, like most would imagine, but the city was still vast, making it hard to cover most of it in one night, even when they had limitations of where they could go. Leonardo hopped from building to building on the rooftops, feeling the cold New York night air rush by him and tug on the tails of his mask. Being cold-blooded just like the rest of his brothers, he let out a low shudder and started to get sluggish, wanting to sleep like any other reptile in a cold situation. Even so, he continued to run across the rooftops with his brothers slightly behind him, blinking and shivering rapidly to keep warm and stay awake. He tried to think of a plan before Raphael asked, so he would always seem prepared. He had to be the perfect leader, of course. He had to be the one they thought he was, or else he would lose their respect.

Not that he really got much respect, anyway.

There had been a lot of suspicious activity around the city, but most concerning was that there had been no attacks directed to the turtles. Valuable items were going missing every day, but they never saw by who, and it wasn't the Kraang, although the turtles had used a spy roach to listen to their next plan, which- from what they heard- didn't sound too wonderful for Manhattan. There were no Foot attacks, and even Karai had been surprisingly quiet, never ambushing them, even in the easiest places. Then again, she had mutated, and was usually keeping to herself, even if she had some sort of animal mentality, and he and his brothers were possible prey. The worst they had faced was the Purple Dragons, that was it. And the Purple Dragons defenitely didn't have what was being stolen, even though it was doubted they could steal half of that in the first place.

That was all of the suspicious activity, and it...

 _Scared_ him.

It scared him to the point that he would rather send his brothers home so they could be safe while he handled the danger. His brothers had started to feel safe about the Foot Clan, never worrying about an attack anymore, which frustrated Leonardo. Maybe if he sent them together away from any places for a possible ambush, then he could handle those areas, and his brothers would be safe together. Besides, one lone ninja would draw Foot and Kraang attacks away, due to him being without any back-up, without his brothers. It should be easy to get attacker's attention. However, making a good excuse as to why he should go alone would be much, much more difficult.

If he said he saw something suspicious, then they would be keen on coming with him to check it out. If he said he saw Kraang, they would come. If he said he saw Purple Dragon, they would come, saying that he "couldn't have all the fun". What if he said he forgot something and went in the sewers direction? Maybe it would work if he told them to keep going and he would meet them at the water tower on top of Antonio's. Then, once they were gone, he could patrol on his own, take the "scenic" route to the rendezvous, and if nothing attacked him on the way, then they were safe.

...He hoped.

Leonardo stopped on top of an old shoe store and turned to look at his brothers, who were all staring at him expectantly. Raphael picked up one of his twin sai and leaned up against the wall, flipping it in the air and watching it's three sharpened prongs glint dangerously in the city's lights. He turned his green orbs Leonardo's way before turning his entire body to him, sheathing the single sai back into his belt and crossing his arms.

"Well, Fearless?" he taunted, "What's up?"

Leonardo kept a straight face and glanced at all of his brothers.

"I forgot my T-Phone at home," he said. He wasn't exactly lying, it was hidden on a building nearby, so he didn't have it, "I'm going to go get it, in case something happens and we need to call each other. I'll meet you guys at the water house by our emergency rendezvous in about ten or fifteen minutes and go with you for the rest of the nightly patrol. Got it?" he could only hope that they would comply.

Leonardo recieved a few skeptical looks Raphael and Donatello, but they soon nodded along to show their agreement, and Michelangelo had probably never been paying attention in the first place, as he just nodded throughout the entire thing. After receiving their hesitant agreement, Leonardo jumped down into the nearest alleyway with a manhole, waited, and watched as they launched from rooftop to rooftop in the scenic route towards their emergency rendezvous.

He didn't open the manhole cover and slip into the sewer like they thought he would. No, instead, he grabbed the railings of the nearest fire escape and propelled himself up onto the roof of a nearby building using the fire escape. He gave a long, sweeping gaze at the rooftops of the buildings lit by lights of people who were still awake before walking in the opposite direction, away from their rendezvous. Of course he would head there in a realistic amount of time, grabbing his T-Phone on the way there, but that was only if he wasn't attacked in his attempt to keep his brothers safe. His feet made no sound on the concrete buildings as he walked on them, almost casually. He pulled out a ninjatō and began swinging it, humming a tune and strolling along like he had all the time in the world.

About three minutes of slow walking later, Leonardo began to wonder why he hadn't been attacked by anything yet. It made no sense, considering he was alone.

And that's when he heard the creak and the quiet, angered mutter behind him.

He whipped around and brandished both ninjatōs, gripping their hilts tightly as his third eyelid slipped over his eyes to keep them safe while still allowing him to see. He set into the familiar pose for him when about to fight and scanned the shadows from a advertising sign for any sign of enemies.

Soon, the dark figures of several Foot Clan bots emerged, holding their own weapons with confidence. Soft, robotic chirps came from them as their eyes flashed a bright red. Leonardo scoffed. Seven? Really?

Confident in his skills, he launched into his own fighting style, slashing fiercely at the centers of each bot, two at a time. However, when he thought he was through with them, fourteen more emerged, starting to swarm him. Leonardo shook off his anxieties and continued to fight them the way he usually would: quickly and efficiently. Everything was fine, right?

Magenta sparks flashed through the air, dimly lighting the rooftop further and giving Leonardo something else to dodge as he slashed through bot after bot, their numbers seeming endless. He began to grow tired, his attacks against them weakening, and he was getting pushed closer and closer to the edge of the building. His thoughts started getting fuzzy, melding into one thought of survival, and he couldn't hear much anything over the sound of metal against metal, the blood rushing in his ears, and the sounds of cars.

A Foot bot ran at him, but the turtle was not fast enough to comprehend it and was sent sliding across the roof on his side by a fast and hard kick to the plastron. He curled up on himself for a moment, wheezing softly due to the air getting knocked out of his lungs and the pain from his entire left side getting dragged across the unforgiving concrete, then realized he would get killed that way and stood up holding his ninjatō, shaking.

Only one? Where did the other go?

There, across the roof where he was last was a fallen ninjatō. He hoped it would not cost him as he began slicing faster to make up for the lack of a second ninjatō, pushing them back so that he could stay away from the dangerous edge of the building.

The building was an old, run-down, concrete apartment building that had closed a long time ago, but was still standing.

Standing high off the ground.

It could have easily been knocked down by anything, as it was extremely rickety. One wrong move, the whole thing would cave in, and they would probably all end flattened. Even if it was on the edge of the building, Leonardo was surprised that the advertising sign hadn't broken the roof in yet.

Too lost in his own thoughts to realize someone was behind him, a sudden strong arm wrapped around the teen's still slightly aching plastron and arms, another over his throat, and held him still. He struggled wildly, kicking and pulling against the grip, but never even budging the one behind him.

Panic and fear tightened his chest, grabbing his heart in an icy, clawed hand; a Foot bot was coming towards him, holding a white cloth in one hand.

They weren't going to chloroform him, right? _Right?_

...They definitely were. The cloth found it's way to his face and covered his nose and mouth, forcing him to inhale the sickly sweet smell of chloroform.

No! Not like this, please not like this!

Leonardo held his breath for as long as he could, raising his unrestrained knees up to his chest, then springing them out against the bot's core. His plan worked, as the Foot bot stumbled back and removed the cloth, but not for long. In the time that the Foot bot had stopped chloroforming him, Leonardo took deep, gasping breaths to clear his clouded head, then held it again once the Foot bot returned to try again.

This time, when he tried to remove the bot again, he was stopped by whoever was behind him viciously tightening their grip to the point it was physically painful, and kneeing him in the shell. Then they wrapped a leg over both of his, pinning his legs to their other leg.

It began to hurt to not breathe. It made his chest ache and scream, beg for air, but he wouldn't. He started to squeeze his eyes shut in an effort to hold his breath for longer.

He knew it wasn't going to last much longer, and soon he would have to breathe, but he intended to prolong that for as long as possible.

There was suddenly somebody pressing against the pressure point on the back of his head, and it startled him into forgetting why he wasn't breathing. Leonardo inhaled deeply, and was quickly reminded of what was happening by the smell of chloroform.

His head was immediately foggy again, muffling his panicked thoughts under the heavy blanket of chemical-induced sleep. Blackness began to shut down on him, creeping up at the edges of his vision and getting closer and closer to the center. The tunnel vision didn't help with his blurry, tired sight. It made it so hard to see, he could barely see the group of Foot bots coming ever closer. It was hard even to see the bot directly in front of him, pressing the white cloth firmly against Leonardo's nose and mouth.

His chest tightened again, making it harder to breathe, more than it already was.

Feeling nauseous, he really hoped he wouldn't throw up with the cloth right there on his face.

But then, the cloth was gone?

Leonardo heard multiple bots power down, and the clashing of metal against metal. He let his head lull gently to side as he began to feel his legs being freed, and his feet dragging lightly against the concrete. He gave up trying to get away a long time ago, when he couldn't move anything.

"...n...don't!" he heard a rough, familiar voice somewhere on the rooftop. Or at least, he heard part of what they said. He couldn't really tell what the rest through how much his ears were ringing.

Just as suddenly as when he was grabbed, he was dropped, but instead of landing on the cold concrete, he landed in warm hands. Free of his kidnapper's grip, he began to take deep breaths, his thoughts too cloudy for him to realize he went from one grip to another.

"How...he,...?" another voice, soft and worried.

"Chloroformed," a third, this one calm, but hiding the accents of distress.

The longer Leonardo spent breathing deeply and calmly, the better he felt. Soon, the darkness and the blurry vision went away, followed by the ringing in his ears, then most of the fatigue.

He slowly opened eyes he didn't even know he had closed, and started to sit up, but instead was pushed back into warm, comforting arms that soothed his panic only slightly. He looked up, only to be met with a worried gaze from a purple-clad turtle with brown irises that seemed red in the current lighting. Donatello.

"Leo," the younger turtle scolded, "what happened? Because clearly, you weren't going to get your T-Phone, considering you were just drugged by a band of Foot bots, your left side looks like heck, and your phone is nowhere in sight."

Guilt ate up Leonardo's insides as he turned away, but behind him were Raphael and Michelangelo. Michelangelo was clearly concerned, his baby blue eyes wide and scared. Raphael seemed angry, frustration shown in his bright green eyes, but it was clear that underneath the hard exterior, he was scared for his eldest too.

It hurt worse, not the scrapes from the concrete. The guilt. The guilt made him feel sicker than when he was being drugged. It made his insides twist with rage directed only to himself. How could he lie to his brothers like that? Even to keep them safe, he had isolated himself, and they had to come find him, then rescue him in battle. He was such an idiot that he didn't realize they would come for him.

And then Raphael smacked the still slightly dazed turtle in the back of the head.

"Don't you ever do something so stupid again, got it?" Raphael snarled, but it was his way of expressing care, so Leonardo simply gave a dazed nod.

"How did you find me?" Leonardo asked the question that was on his mind, and was met quickly with a response from his purple-clad younger brother.

"Well, when we got there ten minutes after we made our plans, and you weren't there, we suspected something was wrong. We waited five minutes and then called you. You didn't respond, and we gave you five more minutes-" Donatello started to tell their story, and was cut off by Raphael, who continued it eagerly and ignored the glare from his younger brother.

"-at that point, we figured we'd hafta save your idiot shell, so we came back to you getting captured," he smacked Leonardo in the back of the head again, much to Donatello's distress.

"Stop that! He was just drugged!" he exclaimed, just before the red-clad and purple-clad turtles began arguing, bickering in the background as the baby brother crept up to Leonardo and pulled him into a fierce hug.

"Dude, don't ever scare me like that again, 'kay?" the youngest whined softly, "They almost got you, Leo! You're even hurt!"

Leonardo gave a gentle, guilty hug as his response, "Okay, Mikey,"

He started to rise to his feet after letting go of Michelangelo, and stumbled backwards, still slightly drowsy from the chloroform. Of course, his brothers noticed immediately, and Raphael was the one to catch him, wrapping an arm under both the eldest's arms and supporting him. Leonardo blinked in slight surprise and steadied himself before letting go of the muscular other turtle and staggering forward. Raphael was clearly disturbed by this, grabbing the blue-clad turtle's shoulders when he nearly fell over for the second time, and the pain shot through Leonardo's left side.

"Easy, Leo," he instructed with a grumble.

"I'm fine," Leonardo waved them off, peeling Raphael's hands off his shoulders and walking mostly successfully.

He nearly tripped over his feet a few times, but in the end was walking with minimal help. Still, he checked the area one last time, to make sure there was nobody around. When nobody was seen near them, he shook his head to try and clear out the last of the fatigue. Right, and he still needed to grab his T-Phone.

"Guys, I need to get my T-Phone," he said, "For real, this time," he added when he caught an upset look from Michelangelo.

He jogged forward and jumped onto the roof of a slightly lower building, another apartment that was actually in use. He caught sight of Michelangelo walking with him, but didn't mind as he went to the next building on the left, a small shoe store. Turned off and pressed up between a ventilation shaft and an advertising sign was Leonardo's T-Phone, surprisingly hidden for where it was. He picked it up and tucked it into it's rightful place in his belt, where it belonged.

"Alright, ready to go," Leonardo confirmed and turned to his orange-clad brother, surprised to see his other two brothers with him.

The second oldest nodded, bracing slightly, probably in case the eldest fell and needed to be caught. Thankfully, he didn't, and they all relaxed slightly on their way across the business portion of their usual part of the city.

Except for Leonardo.

Leonardo kept glancing back at where he was attacked, and searching the shadows behind them. He felt one of his brothers brush up against him slightly, like they were checking if he was still there, and he ignored them, anxiety joining with the already toxic feeling guilt. It made him sick, his throat tightening, and it felt like something was building in his chest. He shifted uncomfortably. Had his shell always felt this tight? Was that just how bad he felt? He still felt sick, and swallowed, just in case something tried to come up. Considering most of what he ate, it wouldn't be great to hurl that all back up. Then again, guilt and anxiety always made him feel nauseous, without fail.

Meaning it wasn't too great to be leader, considering the burden he had to bare. He was always anxious about failing his brothers, about getting them hurt or killed, and he was always guilty when something happened because it was his fault, he should have seen it coming. They always said that it wasn't fault, and that he couldn't see everything coming. Even he tried to convince himself that it wasn't his fault, but no matter what he still felt guilty about whatever went wrong. All the time.

He shivered lightly, aware of the cold all over again. Donatello suddenly dashed in front of Leonardo, skidded to a halt, and turned, forcing Leonardo to stop as well.

"What is it, Don?" Leonardo asked, crossing his arms and frowning deeply, unhappy about being stopped when he was fully capable of continuing.

"Let's take you home, Leo," Donatello said firmly and grabbed one of Leonardo's arms, "I don't know what I was thinking, you shouldn't be out here. I need to check if there were any residual effects to the chloroform, and those scrapes look pretty nasty.

Leonardo huffed, indignant, and pulled his arm out of the younger turtle's grip. Seriously? Did Donatello seriously think he couldn't continue? He was fine. In comparison to when he was fighting off Foot bots, Rahzar, Tiger Claw, and Fishface, getting chloroformed and a little scraped up was nothing. He still remembered it like it was yesterday. He remembered the pain, the exhaustion, and the sheer determination to keep going. It felt like his lungs were getting ripped out and his muscles were getting sliced apart, but he was a machine driven by spite, determination, and adrenaline. He was already sluggish and tired from the cold New York, and falling into water so cold it was steaming didn't help. He wanted to lay there for longer, and try to raise his body temperature. But of course, he would get killed that way, and it forced him to rise and face the Shredder and his henchmen. When he had been thrown to the ground and attacked by the trio of villains, that was his snapping point. The adrenaline was completely gone, all drained from his system. At that point, he was running on pure rage. Rage at Shredder for hiding like the coward he was. Rage at Razhar, Fishface, and Tiger Claw for helping such a terrible person. Even rage at April for believing that Irma was a human friend, and taking her to the lair without asking their permission first. Especially rage at himself, for not helping in protecting his brothers. He had only directed the Foot and Shredder away from them, not the Kraang, he was sure he could've done both. Using that wrath at everything as fuel, he took Razhar and Fishface out of the battle with ease, and even managed to take down Tiger Claw. But the rage disappeared as quickly as it came, and left him defenseless to the sudden attack from Shredder. The encounter was embarrassingly short, but he was lucky enough to face Shredder and live. Even after that, when he should've relaxed some as he was recover, the feelings of guilt and rage festered. If he wasn't so useless, he could have helped his family from the swamp mutant! Raphael would never have reached such a terrible point where he had been turned into a _plant_ , of all things, and his brothers wouldn't have been captured and had to witness their own brother's near death. If he had just pushed past his injury, he could've helped them earlier.

So, he shook his head and pulled away from his second younger brother, keeping his gaze firm, "I can survive long enough to do night patrol, I'll be fine, Don."

Donatello was clearly not taking "no" for an answer, and grabbed his brother's arm again. He was soon joined by Raphael, who grabbed the young leader's shoulders and started guiding him down a nearby fire escape to the alley below, ignoring his struggles and indignant complaints with ease.

"Doctor's orders, fearless. Down we go," he said, giving the blue-clad turtle a small shove in the manhole's direction as the youngest lifted it up like Leonardo was disabled and couldn't do it himself.

Leonardo gave a low growl and tried to pull away from his brothers, backing himself up against a wall. With the way his brothers flocked him, he probably looked like he was getting mugged in a back alley. Another low growl escaped him, irritation rising deep within him, but he made quick work of compressing it before he had the chance to accidentally lash out at his brothers.

"I told you I'm fine," he protested against his brothers' skeptical looks, "The scrapes aren't that bad, and the chloroform hasn't effected anything. I'm fine to keep going for the night!"

His pleas fell on deaf ears, as Donatello tried to reason with him using logic, "Leo, for one, the skin of your side could be worse than you think it is, and grit from the rooftop could have gotten in it,"

...An unfortunately good point.

"Second, just because you don't think you're feeling anything doesn't mean you don't have any side effects from it. That could've been a mixture of two drugs, and then who knows what havoc it could be wreaking upon your insides. Finally, what if we encounter something? Then what would you do, injured?"

 _'The same thing I always do,'_ Leonardo thought bitterly, _'push through the pain and work against my limits, either way.'_

Raphael seemed to read the expression on Leonardo's face in the short time he wasn't speaking, and took his minor distraction as a chance to grab the eldest's arm and pull him back to the manhole. Leonardo huffed and rooted himself to the ground while his younger brothers teamed up to get him back underground. However, his attempts to stop them were not as strong as they were, Donatello's logical attacks weakening his resolve. Still, he wasn't budging. It wasn't the end of the world if he stayed a out just a little longer.

A small push on his shell caught him off guard, and he stumbled forward with the second eldest's pull. Michelangelo lifted the manhole up again and grabbed one of Leonardo's hands, helping Donatello and Raphael pull him down to the sewers. Finally, Leonardo gave up, grumbled softly, and climbed down the ladder to land in the dim lighting, his eyes adjusting to how much darker it was down in the sewers without the city lights' illumination from all sides. Once he could see the outlines of where he was heading, he started walking to the lair, his brothers following close behind. They enraged him to tears sometimes, but he knew he would be lost without their love. If anything happened to any of them, well...

He pushed away the thought, determined to stay as positive as the baby brother. If he couldn't keep his hopes up, he would shatter as a leader, and a brother. It had already been proven in the past that none of his brothers could lead, and so, they would shatter, too. Chaos would ensue, and they would fall apart. What would Master Splinter do at that point? He knew that his master- No, _father_ \- was having enough problems of his own. And so, he needed to be strong. As a pupil, a son, a leader, and a brother. If he couldn't do that, then why was he even leader in the first place?

Soon, the warm light of his home greeted him, and he attempted to speed up to reach it faster, only to be pulled back by Donatello.

"Leo, don't go so fast. You're going to trip,"

Leonardo bit his tongue to hold back a stinging retort. He didn't need to be babied, or treated like he was six! So instead of snapping at his second younger brother who was only concerned for him, he brushed him off.

"I swear I'm fine, Donnie. I'm really not being effected by it, and I'm not that drowsy anymore!"

Donatello gave him yet another skeptical look, but silently agreed to at least letting go of his shoulder.

It was good enough for him, and he continued walking, wishing he could at least speed up to a trot without Donatello stopping him like he was some child.

Apparently, that was too much to ask, in the tall, gangly turtle's point of view. If his brother was not moving at a slow, steady pace, he was not happy, by the looks of it. Even going at a normal speed, it seemed that he wasn't happy about it. Thankfully, they finally got to the lair, and his brothers stopped flocking him like vultures in their safe haven. The lair was oddly quiet, but that was to be expected, since Master Splinter was hidden away into his room at that time, Casey couldn't come over due to being grounded and a school night, and April was studying for a quiz. Of course, the purple-clad turtle grabbed the eldest and dragged him off to the lab for medical care, much to Leonardo's annoyance. It was not the end of the world. How could his brothers not see that? A few scrapes were not bad. They weren't even bleeding that much. Still, the third son pushed Leonardo down into a spinning chair settled at Donatello's desk and took out a first-aid kit he kept in a nearby cabinet in case of any need for it. First, he opened it and pulled out a bottle of disinfectant and a cotton ball, then made sure that Leonardo would hold still as he edged the cotton ball closer to his side.

"Move your arm a little, please," he instructed as Leonardo moved his left arm out of way, "Yeah, like that. Now, this is going to sting a bit, I just need you to hold still,"

The irritation rose to dangerously high levels. He didn't think that Leonardo already knew it would sting? Again, he bit back a retort and briskly nodded.

Donatello dabbed the cold, thoroughly soaked cotton ball against the scrapes and cuts to clean them and make sure they wouldn't get infected in the future. He occasionally doused a cotton ball again when it seemed to be getting dry, and changed cotton balls out when they got dirty. It stung, of course, but the young leader had seen worse. So he toughed it out. Next, Donatello began patching them up, spreading bandages over the wounds to keep them safe from dirt and grit, and to make sure they wouldn't worsen in the future. Once he was satisfied with the job he did, and only then, did Donatello release Leonardo, instructing him to be careful about the way he moved. Leonardo nodded his agreement, thanked his genius brother, and left. No way was he going to follow those instructions if he needed to abandon them. He would get some sort of tonguelashing from Donatello later, but he didn't mind anymore. He had to endure Raphael's screaming rants, as well as the indecipherable phrases Master Splinter said to him when he asked for guidance. In other words, the lecture would be nothing. Especially if he could tune the genius out.

Heading out of the lab, he jumped out of the way just in time to barely avoid Michelangelo sprinting away from the hothead.

"No, wait, Raph! I didn't mean to glitter your sais that much! Have mercy!"

His cries meant nothing to the furious brother. In his right hand, Raphael held both sais, which were both covered from hilt to the tip of each prong in hot pink glitter that made Leonardo's eyes hurt just from glancing at them. In his other hand was a wooden spoon, his instrument of torture.

"Mikey!" his call rang out dangerously in the lair, "When I'm done with you, you won't even want to think about glitter from the PTSD it'll give you!"

"I wouldn't recommend that for a method of punishment!" Donatello's voice came shortly after Raphael's, advising against giving their youngest brother PTSD.

Of course, as the eldest, he was supposed to step in between to make sure that nobody got hurt, even if it was a few bruises. His "older sibling danger meter" was going insane as Michelangelo began screaming and hiding himself behind a pillow to defend himself from his older brother's attacks. Usually, it was only like that when their father was about to step in and put an end to their antics, meaning he couldn't enjoy the show.

Just as Leonardo darted forward and tackled Raphael off of his brother whom he rendered defenseless, was when the shoji to the dojo slid open, and Master Splinter peered out to see why there was screaming, tightening his grip on his jade staff. When he only saw his sons roughhousing, he slid the shoji shut again. The second the shoji had opened, the three brothers froze in their places. Leonardo's danger meter had been correct, as an adult opened the door to check on them very, very quickly. But once it closed...

Chaos resumed.

Leonardo held Raphael down by his shoulders, sitting on a higher part of shell to keep him down, and pressing his legs on top of the other's.

"Raph, calm down!" he growled, pushing down on his shoulders when the hothead tried to get up, "We can clean your sais, and you don't need to hurt Mikey."

He heard a protesting grumble, and caught a glare sent his way as Raphael turned his head to try and look at Leonardo.

"And Mikey gets to avoid punishment? Leo, that's totally unfair and you know it!"

He knew that, and that's why he wasn't letting the youngest slip away without punishment. As he got off of Raphael, he noticed Michelangelo trying to slip away unnoticed. He snapped his fingers to let the orange-clad turtle know he noticed, before turning to see him.

"Mikey, you're not getting out of this that easily," he said, and smirked as the addressed turtle froze before he continued with a straight face, "You have been told not to touch our weapons, correct?" Michelangelo nodded and waited for his punishment with downcast eyes, "You've been told many, many times, and yet you do so anyway. As your punishment, you will be cleaning all of the glitter off Raph's sais," he didn't wait for the youngest's protests, continuing before he could even open his mouth, "with him overseeing your job. And, as an apology, you'll polish them for him as well."

Michelangelo's blue eyes widened, "Leo, do I-"

An annoyed scoff left him as he tried to avoid punishment, even though nothing ever worked to change the eldest's mind when it came to making things fair, "Yes, you have to. You can't always avoid this, Mikey. You have to take responsibility at some point,"

A soft sigh left the freckled turtle as he followed a certainly smug Raphael for the cleaning kit, hanging his arms and upper body low. He was in for a long night, and it was obvious he knew it.

Once that was dealt with, Leonardo left for bed. It had been a confusing night, and he was looking forward to some shut-eye. He paused along the way, remembering he needed to make sure the others would go to sleep. So, that's how he found himself turning back to the lab, dealing with the hardest the first. Just as he thought he would, Donatello was already working on something and seeming like he was preparing for another all-nighter.

"Don," he made his presence known before walking in, so as not to startle the genius, "come on, you need to go to bed. No all-nighters."

Donatello turned and opened his mouth to protest, but Leonardo had already stopped approaching, standing sideways and pointing in the direction of Donatello's room to signal that his word was final. A grumble left Donatello as he stood up, but he left for his room without hesitation.

One down, but Leonardo would have to check on him later to make sure he was asleep. He would tell Raphael and Michelangelo next.

He went to the pit next, where he found Michelangelo cleaning the glitter off of one partially clean sai, while Raphael simply smirked and watched. The other sai lay next to him, still completely covered in glitter.

"Both of you, you have up until eleven," he announced.

Raphael gave a thumbs up, and there was no reaction from Michelangelo, who was busy sulking and cleaning.

There were the other two, which, he would have to set an alarm to make sure they were in bed by eleven.

Slowly, he headed for his room, searching for the shoji that separated his room from the main hall and his brothers' rooms. He had chosen one of the few closest to doorway, so that in case of an emergency, he could protect his family. His hand found it's way to the lip of the shoji that served as a handle, and he slowly slid it open, then shut it as quietly as he could. He rested his hand on the wall and used that as his guide to bed, nearly stumbling on the large item he was looking for as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness. However, once he found it, he was quick to let go of the wall and grab the blanket that promised comfort and warmth. Before he climbed into the bed, he followed his nightly ritual. First, he took off the Tachi that still held his ninjatōs, and leaned them up against the wall. Once that was taken care of, he stretched, loosening up any muscles that had tightened with the stress of the day. When he heard some things crack, and felt like he was going to melt into a puddle, he plugged his T-Phone into it's charger, set his alarm for waking up, and his alarm for eleven to be sure that his siblings would all be in bed. Finally, he set his phone down, took his mask off, set that down as well, pulled back the covers of his bed, and settled into the comforting heaven of the blankets. After he pulled the blankets up to his chin, he closed his eyes and let the darkness of sleep overcome him.

***

The shrill beeping of his alarm dragged him out of his dreamless sleep, making his time spent asleep seem far too short, like it had only been a few minutes. Leonardo opened his eyes slowly, relishing the warmth of his bed as long as he could before he finally had to get up. Once he did, he turned off his alarm, pulled on his mask, and used the wall as a guide back to the shoji. He slid it open, and left it open as he made his way back to the pit.

Nobody there...

He checked the lab.

No signs of anyone there.

He took a breath and went to Raphael's room first, quietly knocking on the wall to announce his presence, and was greeted with a long, tired groan of "what".

"Sorry, sorry, just checking if you were asleep," Leonardo apologized to the second oldest, and then left for Donatello.

He slowly slid open the shoji and peered into the darkness. Once his eyes had adjusted to the dark, however, he saw the genius spread out over his bed, snoring softly and hugging a pillow. A smile found it's way to Leonardo's face as he closed the shoji again.

Seeing that made his night much better.

Finally, Michelangelo. He noticed light shining through the white paper of the shoji, and immediately knew that he was awake as he slid it open. Just as he thought, the youngest was sitting on his bed, reading comics by the light of a lamp. Ignoring the stench of... Something, he spoke.

"Mikey, you need to go to bed."

A yelp came as a response before the actual words.

"L-Leo! What are you doing awake? I thought you went to bed!"

"I could ask the same to you,"

Nothing. His pea-brained brother couldn't say anything to defend himself.

"Mikey, you need to get to bed, or you won't have any energy to eat pizza tomorrow."

The threat worked like it always did, and in a few moments, the comic was discarded onto the floor, the lamp had been turned off, and Michelangelo was tucked into bed.

"G'night, bro!"

His call rang out quietly as Leonardo shut the shoji again, returning his call as he went back to his own room.

"Goodnight, Mikey."

Once he was back in his safe haven, his shelter, he sped back to his bed without using a wall for guidance. Taking his mask off once more, he pushed the blankets and sheet back to make room for himself. He had pulled them up while he was away to hopefully save the perfect amount of heat, and it worked. Leonardo wiggled right back into the warmth like he had never left, and let out a breath of relief. Slowly, his eyes shut again and he was consumed by the darkness once more.

***

_A soft breeze blew his mask tails in the wind, and Leonardo slowly closed his eyes. Alone with his brothers with no dangers nearby. Next to him, the eldest could hear his brothers laughing, joking, and roughhousing, eventually starting to bully their freckled brother in good, playful nature. While the three played around, pushing and shoving, Leonardo opened his eyes, settled onto the edge of the building, and closed them again, focusing on his surroundings, just to be safe. When he reopened his eyes, he was sitting on the edge of a walkway beside a waterfall in the sewers, the loud rumbling of the constantly falling water almost drowning out his brothers. He didn't mind being so close to the edge of the drop, despite knowing that it had been known to kill people._

_Suddenly, **didn't** turned to **hadn't** as one of his brothers was shoved too hard, bumped into him, and he felt the ground slip out from him, the world passing by in a blur. Three ardent cries of "Leo" followed his fall, and were quickly silenced by the distance. A breeze of air tugged at the back of his neck when he first fell, like somebody tried to catch him, and missed. Fear grabbed at his heart for a moment, but it let go, just before he hit the water and accepted his fate._

_When he hit the water, the pain rushed through his entire being, down to his core and the fear came back, attacking him viciously like he was it's only victim._

_He heard so many things._

_He and Raphael fighting over who should be leader._

_The Shredder promising a quick death if he gave up the location of Master Splinter._

_Karai's- **Miwa's** \- Announcement that the Shredder was her father._

_April screaming it was their fault her father mutated._

_His father's scream as he was murdered._

_All of those were loud and clear, ringing in his head as he sank deeper and deeper into the water. They all mixed together into one, large blur of voices, more joining it, screams of people he couldn't help **why wouldn't they stop-**_

_And then, his alarm?_

***

Leonardo took a deep gasp of breath as he shot into a sitting up position, gripping the blankets tightly.

Right.

Only a nightmare.

None of it was real.

The beeping of his alarm was certainly real, unfortunately.

He leaned over to his phone, picked it up, and swiped the alarm off. Knowing that if he layed back down, he would go back to sleep _like he should be at such an unholy time_ , Leonardo yawned and swung his legs over the side of the bed. After he stood up, he began his morning ritual. First, he made his bed, resetting the sheets and blankets, and smoothing them out. Next, he grabbed his mask and made his way to the bathroom to wash up, yawning again. He did his usual. Washed his face, brushed his teeth, took a brisk shower, put his mask on once he was dry...

He continued what he always did and went back to his room, grabbing the Tachi that had remained leaned against the wall, and placing them on his shell where they belonged. Then he stretched some, and jogged in place to wake himself up, although it didn't stop another yawn.

Tea. He needed tea like it was water.

And so, he found himself making his way to the kitchen to start a kettle. Slowly, he walked into the kitchen, flicked on a light, and walked towards a cabinet they used to hold mugs and mug related items. After a short time of searching, he found the kettle he and Master Splinter often used for making tea, and Michelangelo occasionally used for hot chocolate. The creamy grey and ginger painted porcelain of the teapot gently reflected the light, Leonardo's hand tightening on the curved, brown, wooden handle as he went to the sink to fill it up with water. Once he was there, he twisted the top of the kettle, took it off, pushed the opening under the faucet, and turned on the water. The sloshing of water inside the teapot soothed him, and he closed his eyes, thinking of what calmed him the most. A smile crept onto his beak, but was quickly washed away when he felt water washing over his hands. He opened his eyes to see the teapot overflowing. All he did was simply turn off the water, pour some of it out of the teapot into the sink, and used a few paper towels to rub the water off of it's sides. When he was satisfied, he put the teapot onto one of the burners on the stove and turned the burner on before he returned to their mug cabinet. He reached up for the teacups that went with their teapot, grabbing at them despite them being on a higher shelf.

It was a wonder he had gotten the teapot out.

Somehow, after a solid minute of struggling and grunts, he managed to get one of the teacups down without breaking it. He selected his tea afterwards, easily deciding on green tea, his favorite. Finally, his mug was ready for the hot water, when he would then need it to steep. As if on cue, the kettle started whistling, and Leonardo was quick to silence it, turning off the burner and lifting the teapot up. He put a hand on the top to be sure it would not fall, and tipped the teapot, pouring the steaming water into the cup. The bag was already in the water, so he leaned against the counter and stared at the ceiling, humming in thought. Soon, his "humming in thought" turned to humming a song. It was something he had heard recently, and as much as he hated it, it was unfortunately catchy. It was super cheesy and happy, all rainbows and sunshine and sprinkles, and probably something you would hear played on a show for kids between the ages of a few months, and eight. In short, it made him sick, and extremely aggravated. However, Michelangelo was completely obsessed with it, and every time Leonardo heard it, he wanted to scream. He didn't have anything against the song, it was just so annoying!

That one song was how he found out he hated bubblegum pop.

Thankfully, he wasn't alone. Raphael, Donatello, and even Master Splinter despised it too. Michelangelo was the only one who actually liked that stupid song.

He started trying to hum something else, but it was so engraved in his thoughts that he could barely remember the tune of anything else. So he just stopped humming and thought of plans for the nightly patrol while waiting for his tea to steep.

In a few minutes, he checked his tea, which had fully steeped. He threw the tea bag in the trash, picked up his teacup, sat down at the island, and sipped the warm liquid. The blue-clad turtle had forgotten to blow off his tea, and ended up burning his mouth. He tried to ignore it and swallowed it, the lava hot tea scorching his throat before it faded into a comforting warm. A soft sigh of relief escaped him as he took another sip, actually blowing it off that time. The warmth filled him, allowing him to relax a little more in the short window of time where he got actual peace and quiet, nobody and nothing disturbing him. It was nice, but it couldn't last long. Not in a family entirely of boys. He couldn't even call themselves men, because in reality, they were still children, even if it was just mentally. Although, they were technically still minors, as they were seventeen, almost eighteen.

Almost.

Not at legal adulthood yet.

Meaning adult responsibilities couldn't catch him.

 _'Hah, can't catch me now,'_ he gloated silently, but it was quickly followed by a sigh.

He knew that was a lie. Not technically being adult didn't give him the advantages of still being a minor. In fact, he had more responsibility than most adults had. He had the weight of keeping all of Manhattan safe on his shoulders. Not only that, but he was expected to deal with his three, rowdy younger brothers and keep them safe as well. It was amazing he hadn't buckled under the pressure of it all yet, considering the circumstances. A giant, talking, mutant turtle who knew ninjitsu, had three mutant brothers, a mutated adoptive father, a mutated adoptive sister, and had to try and keep mutants and aliens from conquering their city. He shivered, trying to stop thinking about it and just enjoy his morning. Although, if nobody other than him was awake so early in the morning, he could check the suspicious happenings again. Hopefully, without another attack, considering that he barely made it out of the last one.

His rational side suddenly kicked in, trying to reason him out of it. He couldn't have made it out without his brothers help, so what would he do alone, without any of them knowing where he was? He would get captured, maybe even killed...

Of course, with his rational side speaking, his fear immediately had to come and nudge him.

And? If he left it alone, and his idiot brothers continued to be too overconfident? Then what? His brothers would get hurt, captured, _killed_ by their stupidity. They never learned from their mistakes, they always thought that when their enemies went silent that they were safe.

Push turned to shove, and Leonardo found himself chugging down the rest of his tea and heading for the sewers before he knew it.

Oh, how dearly he was going to pay, and he knew it.

***

Slowly, Leonardo lifted the manhole cover, just a few inches so he could get a good look to see if there was someone or something around, glancing left and right. When he saw nothing that could pose a threat, he lifted the manhole higher and squeezed out of the gap he made, then set the manhole where it belonged afterwards. He took a shaky breath as he climbed up the closest fire escape to get onto the roofs. The first thing he did afterwards was to survey his surroundings once more, examining everything feverishly. He couldn't stay out long, so he might as well make it worth it. Soon after, he started running across the rooftop he was on, and launched himself onto the next. It aggravated his wounds, of course, pain shooting up his side in an attempt to make him stop. It was in vain, and he kept running. He didn't plan on stopping until he got to one of the areas that had been robbed.

A jewellery place, well-known for often carrying real gemstones. It had been robbed of many recently, costing the shop thousands of dollars. They had gotten a new stock to keep their customers and reputations, and would be perfect for the robbers to strike again, even with new security.

So Leonardo sat.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And they weren't coming.

A small growl of both relief and annoyance escaped him.

It was good that the store wasn't getting robbed, but it was the one time he actually needed it to happen, to see who was behind all of this.

Clicking.

The soft clicking both relieved him, and sent shivers up his spine as he peered over to where the sound was coming from: the back door.

At the bottom of the building, picking the "staff only" door's lock was a... Foot bot? Confusion filled him. Why would Shredder send a Foot bot to rob a jewellery store? Did he have some mistress that wanted some special jewellery? He held in a short laugh at the thought of the Shredder, a powerful man, robbing a store for a woman he loved. Then again, he was certain that he would love no other than Tang Shen.

So, his amusement dampened, he reached for a ninjatō to attack and stop the bot.

A chain wrapped around his wrist, and he went flying back as he was pulled. The air was forced out of his lungs as his shell hit the roof access building. When he reached to get the first chain off, another caught his other hand, and he was pressed against the roof harder.

The panic rose in his chest, constricting his heart, making it hard deep and focus on the task at hand. He planted his feet into the ground and pulled against the chains, but to no avail. In fact, he was sure he was in a worse situation than what he was in before he struggled.

A cloth made contact with his beak.

 _'No no no... Not again!'_ Leonardo thought.

He tried once more to pull away, his vision darkening by the minute. His vision started blurring, and it was suddenly hard to focus on anything.

He felt sick, his body itching to release the little he ate and drank recently, despite there being no reason.

Not again, not again!

He started to limp against his will, and the chains were the only thing holding him up. Little spots were all he could see.

Was he hyperventilating? Judging from his fast his chest was moving as his head lulled, he was certain he was. The quick breaths that only took in the drug weren't helpful at all, the darkness tugging at him to pull him into it.

If he could just stay awake a little longer!-

He tried to lift his head, but it felt like a cinder block was attached to his body. Everything felt heavy. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Finally, he let the darkness consume him.

The last thing he saw was the morning sun, peeking over the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Edited: 9/24/2020) Sorry it isn't fantastic. I appreciate the fact you actually read this far though XD I hope I can update soonish, and that you'll like it :)


	2. Bars and Bindings

Leonardo shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable against the cold brick floor while in pitch black darkness, unaware of if his eyes were open or closed. Chains rattled as a response, and was suddenly painfully aware of cold metal pressed tightly against his wrists.

Wait... Chains? Bricks?

He snapped his eyes open, only to be met with complete darkness, which made him further question if his eyes were even open in the first place. His breath coming in ragged, panicked gasps, he closed his eyes, then reopened them after his eyes had adjusted to the darkness and took in the sights. The entire room was seemingly the same. Stone bricks, packed together so tightly that he couldn't see what was holding them together, made up the walls, ceiling, and floor. In front of him was a steel doors, a small rectangle with bars letting in actual air to breathe. No light, leaving Leonardo in the darkness. The room was around the size of a slightly spacious closet, shackles lining the walls. Two pairs of shackles were set on each wall, Leonardo's being the only one on the opposite side from the door.

Of course, they were keeping him as far from the door as they could.

He shifted slightly, allowing feeling back into his legs after getting out of the badly translated English version of proper Japanese sitting. Once he could feel his legs again, he could feeling metal biting into his ankles, just like he did with his wrists. A frustrated grunt escaped him as he pulled against the chains. It was no use, they had chained him too close to the wall and too tightly for him to do much; struggling just caused the metal to press deeper into his skin, and the sound of rattling chains that was much louder than he would have liked.

Focusing on the temperature, Leonardo concurred that the only reason he was awake was because of the slowly rising temperature. The bricks and bindings were still icy cold, but the air was getting warm at a painstakingly slow pace, easing him into the welcoming warmth. He remembered what Donatello had said about turtles when explaining why all of them so suddenly hibernated when winter came around, back when they were still children.

_\-- "As reptiles, we tend to gain and lose consciousness with the temperature. We're cold-blooded, meaning that we can't produce our own body heat-"_

__

_"Get on with it, Don," Raphael groaned._

____

_"I'm getting there! This is important!" Donatello snapped before continuing, "As I was saying, we can't produce our own body heat, so we rely on other sources for warmth. When our core temperature drops too low, we basically switch off until it's warmer. When it gets hot again, we wake back up like nothing happened."_

_____ _

_"So... English please, Donnie?" Leonardo suggested hopefully, earning himself an annoyed glance from the third son._

______ _ _

_"Woohoo! Translation from Donnese!" cheered Michelangelo, earning himself an annoyed glance as well._

_______ _ _ _

_"What I'm saying is that we don't get along with cold and go to sleep. If it's too cold, we go to sleep forever," Donatello grimly explained, "We need to either build a tolerance to cold temperatures, or find a way to warm up." --_

________ _ _ _ _

He remembered their younger antics fondly, but took note of their local genius' explanation. So they were using dirty tricks and his natural weakness against him? Figured. When weren't they too low to do something like that.

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo closed his eyes, focused on his surroundings, and took deep breaths, listening intently to the dead silence for any signs of life other than him. Of course, then his mind wandered. Why were they keeping him alive? If they were keeping the room almost frozen to contain him, then why might they be warming it up? He shuddered as he realization hit that he might actually talk to the Shredder. Or worse, considering it was the _actual flipping Shredder_ , in what was maybe going to be a _one-on-one talk_ , after they _captured him._

________ _ _ _ _

For the sake of everything good and holy, he was pathetic.

________ _ _ _ _

With every passing second, he could feel himself walking up a little more. Sharper senses. A feeling he wasn't going to pass out the second he spaced out. Better reflexes. After a few minutes, those things suddenly became horrible.

________ _ _ _ _

His stomach did somersaults as footsteps echoed down the halls, coming closer and closer. A dark figure he could barely see passed by the one rectangle in the door, and somebody messed with a ring of keys outside. They muttered angrily a few times before the soft clink of keys stopped and the lock of the door clicked.

________ _ _ _ _

He would've prefered the door stay locked.

________ _ _ _ _

Tigerclaw slowly opened the door, listening to it creak and groan in protest. The over-sized tiger put a ring of keys onto his belt, out of Leonardo's reach, and started to approach, which quickly prompted a hiss from Leonardo. He refused to panic around his enemies, refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing his mind was racing. Tigerclaw snarled, the low, threatening sound rumbling in his throat as he focused on taking the binds on Leonardo's ankles off, and replaced them with different ones that were attached to each other instead of the wall. Then, he took the chains attached to the bindings on Leonardo's wrists, and disconnected them from the wall, keeping Leonardo's hands restrained behind his back as he pulled the two chains closer together. Tigerclaw gave them a tug upwards.

________ _ _ _ _

"On your feet, turtle," he growled, "The master wants to see you."

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo's heart nearly stopped beating, he was sure of it, but he kept his gaze cold and dead, and stood up. He would take his death with pride, and _oh dear gosh he was going to die_. He took a deep breath. If he was going to die keeping his family safe, so be it, as he would have it no other way. Tigerclaw gave Leonardo a shove in the shell, pushing him to start walking. Leonardo did as told, taking slow, sluggish steps to exit his cell. It wasn't that he was still cold, and couldn't push himself to move faster, he was just doing it to annoy his captor. Of course, Tigerclaw probably thought that he was just cold and sluggish, and was only allowing it because of the natural weakness.

________ _ _ _ _

"Faster, turtle."

________ _ _ _ _

Nevermind. Nevertheless, Leonardo did as told, and started to pick up the pace, keeping his head low to avoid looking at anyone. That didn't stop him from seeing the two, black-clothes figures taking their places on either side of him to keep him from making a break for it. It seemed pointless, as his ankles were chained together, just like his wrists, which were pulled tightly together behind his back. He slowly lifted his head, and glanced left and right at the guards. Two Foot bots. Only two. How insulting. Of course, Foot bots practically traveled in packs almost all of the time. If he tried to run, he would most likely get taken down by quite a bit more than two.

________ _ _ _ _

Time passed far too quickly, and soon he was at the doors to the Shredder's throne. Tigerclaw didn't stop walking, instead, he sent a Foot bot ahead, and followed shortly after. The large doors were thrown open, and Leonardo tried to walk in without hesitating. His heart raced, trying to pound out of his chest as he tried to organize his panicked thoughts. All he could do was force his expression into one of tranquility, and stubborn pride. He would not show how terrified he was. Inside was the Shredder, fully armored and sitting straight in his throne. Even the Kuro Kabuto did not mask his pleasure at seeing Leonardo bound and captured.

________ _ _ _ _

"Ah, the turtle has awoken," his voice, as dead as it was, mocked Leonardo in every sense, testing to see how long before his patience wore thin, "And how was your rest?"

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo only stared as he was walked up to the throne, and shoved to his knees. He tried to stand again, mocking them right back, and got shoved to the ground once more. No, he refused to bow in respect to anyone other than his sensei.

________ _ _ _ _

"Was the cold too much? Do you currently hold no ability to speak?"

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo continued to remain silent, keeping his head up and making direct eye contact with the monster in a man's body. He tried to stand again, and Tigerclaw shoved him to his knees for the last time, holding him down so he couldn't stand.

________ _ _ _ _

"You are fooling no one."

________ _ _ _ _

"You have no honor, and I have no reason to speak to you," Leonardo growled, raising his voice and then refusing to speak afterwards.

________ _ _ _ _

Tigerclaw began growling behind him, and the Shredder's expression fell into something cold and blank, stiffened with rage.

________ _ _ _ _

"You dare speak to me like that, turtle? I could kill you here and now, should I want to," Shredder snarled.

________ _ _ _ _

"Then kill me. Kill me for all the times you wimped out just to get at my brothers," Leonardo snapped back.

________ _ _ _ _

That, that _thing_ had no right to dangle life or death in front of Leonardo, to think that he could play God.

________ _ _ _ _

Shredder was silent for a moment before speaking again, "Leave us."

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo heard the chains rattling behind him, and he could feel them tugging on his arms. His panic grew with it as he felt the chains get tighter. His chest muscles tightened, making it harder and harder to breathe and he should've just kept his mouth shut and accepted his fate. Footsteps retreated farther away from him, and there was a heavy thud as the doors closed again. Slowly, the Shredder stood, taking deliberately slow steps to scare the young turtle. There was a stillness as he paused in front of Leonardo, simply trying to stare him down.

________ _ _ _ _

And then there was _blood_ and _agony_.

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo took a shuddering gasp and tried not to scream as the Shredder ripped his gauntlet out of Leonardo's skin, then plunged it back into the injury. Blood had already slicked most of Leonardo's arm, but somehow it was possible to bleed more from one wound as the gauntlet was twisted and pulled back out.

________ _ _ _ _

Then there was pain exploding in his shell. Another strike to his shell, and another to his left shoulder, and then his right arm once more, and it just kept going until all he could feel was pain. He inhaled sharply, holding his breath, and biting his tongue. There was no way he could scream in front of the monster, not when he was clearly watching, waiting for another response. When no response came, he snapped his fingers, and soft whispers of footfalls filled the air. All of a sudden he was getting dragged off. He couldn't just let them drag him, he needed to make an effort for freedom.

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo pulled against their grip, planting his feet and trying to make himself as steady as a rock. He shook violently from the already rapid blood loss, but was determined not to move. Hands grabbed at him, shoving and pulling, combining their forces and removing him from where he stood. He tried to make the journey as difficult as he could, and pulled to get away non-stop, sometimes even breaking from their grips for a moment and nearly running away. He heard different doors open. This time, they were mechanical ones, sliding open with barely a sound.

________ _ _ _ _

%%%

________ _ _ _ _

Raphael slowly woke up to his room, half buried under blankets he tried to kick off in the night. Bleary green eyes searched the room, before he slammed his hand on top of his phone. He started to pick it up, only to find out that his hand was asleep and drop it. A loud groan rumbled in his throat as he leaned over, flipped it over, turned it on, and checked the time. 7:26 A.M.. Confusion was written all across Raphael's face. Their eldest usually gave them the wake-up call by 6 P.M..

________ _ _ _ _

Something was very wrong.

________ _ _ _ _

He slowly heaved himself to his feet after rolling out of bed with a heavy thud, and dragging most of his blankets after him. Then he stood up, yawning and stretching, listening to the joints in his shoulders crack. He made his way to the door, a little too hasty for seven in the morning, although it was evening for them. If anything happened, somebody was going to be in big trouble...

________ _ _ _ _

Raphael made his way to the dojo, where he was more than likely to find his eldest brother. He threw open the shoji, puzzled when he didn't find Leonardo. Where could he even be?

________ _ _ _ _

His father's voice rang from behind him, provoking the question of when he got there.

________ _ _ _ _

"Raphael, my son. Where are your brothers?" he said in his usual calm tone.

________ _ _ _ _

Raphael turned to look Master Splinter in the eyes. "Don and Mikey are still asleep," he explained quietly, voice soft and subdued, which was unnatural for him, "Leo never woke us up, or came to check if we were up."

________ _ _ _ _

By one simple shared look, they reached a silent understanding that Leonardo, the eldest brother, the one they leaned on, and the leader of his brothers', was gone.

________ _ _ _ _

Raphael was the one to make a break for his brother's rooms.

________ _ _ _ _

%%%

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo watched as Baxter Stockman hummed thoughtfully, strapping him down to the metal slab of table. He tensed up, immediately having a bad feeling he knew what was going on when a headpiece was placed on him. A low growl was pulled from deep, deep inside him, more than annoyed by the constant buzzing sound of insect wings. Baxter Stockman came closer, and shoved a cloth into Leonardo's mouth, making sure that he would be silenced. Although, being so close to Leonardo obviously made him extremely nervous. He flew away from Leonardo and through a door that led into an equally bright, separate room. Once the main lab was cleared, the lights shut off.

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo remained silent, that was all he could do.

________ _ _ _ _

Electricity began coursing through his whole body, tearing a scream from him. The scream prompted by the white-hot pain was thankfully muffled, because it would've been much, much louder without the gag. He stopped screaming to try and take a shuddering breath, which didn't go so well. The electricity was frying him, scrambling his brains like eggs.

________ _ _ _ _

Probably his vital organs, too.

________ _ _ _ _

His heart was going insane, pounding against his chest in an irregular beating pattern that made him feel ill, and his limbs would have been numb and tingling if it weren't for the electricity that continued to grab at him. After his failed attempt at taking a deep breath and trying to focus on how bad the pain was, he went right back to his pained screaming.

________ _ _ _ _

His thoughts in his scattered brain only circulated around, 'I have to get out, I have to save myself, I have to see my brothers, I have to get out.'

________ _ _ _ _

The pain became worse. Sharper. Deeper. Reached into his very soul to grab his half-formed plans for escape and tear them apart. His pained screams turned into one, long, ear-shattering wail, the rough cry of anguish bouncing across the room, despite the attempt at keeping him quiet. It rang so loudly and returned to him, his shrieks seeming to never cease. Finally, his voice gave out and his throat was raw from screaming so long.

________ _ _ _ _

The electricity was switched off, and the lights came back on. Baxter Stockman made his way out of the other room, and towards Leonardo.

________ _ _ _ _

Every sound around Leonardo was muffled, echoed slightly, seemed so distant and yet so close, just out of reach and made him feel like he was underwater. He could feel a migraine coming, but that might have just been the massive amounts of lingering agony. Baxter was speaking, it was obvious because his mouth was moving, but everything he said was muted, as if somebody turned the sound off on a TV. Leonardo's vision blurred, and it was impossible to focus on anything. He let his eyes shut, and let the darkness and pain consume him.

________ _ _ _ _

%%%

________ _ _ _ _

At first, it hadn't been easy to get his brothers out of bed. Until he mentioned Leonardo was missing. Then they shot out of bed like misfired bullets, asking questions, dashing around to grab their gear, and generally panicking.

________ _ _ _ _

Good God, how did Leonardo deal with them every day?

________ _ _ _ _

Raphael had to tell his two little brothers that he didn't know where Leonardo was, since he had just woken up and found out, and watch their hearts shatter.

________ _ _ _ _

He wondered how Leonardo dealt with it, because it was most likely better than Raphael's angry approach to his problems.

________ _ _ _ _

They tried to find any sort of leads, starting at Leonardo's room.

________ _ _ _ _

%%%

________ _ _ _ _

The next thing Leonardo remembered was opening his eyes to his cell, the darkness far more welcoming than before. The originally sharp pain of his wounds had lessened to a low throb. In fact, he felt sort of... Numb. Other than the tingling in his arms and legs like there were ants crawling over him, he mostly felt completely numb. His heart was still irregularly beating, though. It felt odd, knowing his heart skipped a beat here and there, that it would beat a few times very quickly before beating slowly, skip a beat, and start beating again. And yet, he couldn't do anything to stop it.

________ _ _ _ _

He pondered how long it would be before his heartbeat was normal again.

________ _ _ _ _

He pondered how long it would be until he was killed or got free.

________ _ _ _ _

How long before he could see his family, safe and sound.

________ _ _ _ _

Did they know? Did their father know? Had they noticed his disappearance? Were they safe? What if they got captured too? Were they looking for him? Where were they?

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo took a deep breath to try and calm his thoughts, then closed his eyes and hummed one of his favorite songs softly to the darkness. He paused where there would be another person coming in to take over.

________ _ _ _ _

Of course, none came.

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo started humming again, picking up where he left off.

________ _ _ _ _

%%%

________ _ _ _ _

Raphael blinked at the emptiness of Leonardo's room.

________ _ _ _ _

He had been expecting Space Heroes posters scattered across the walls. There were none. He had been expecting Leonardo's soft duck blanket he had put away until he made his LARP costume on his bed, folded up in the neat way Leonardo folded blankets. It wasn't there. He was expecting something, anything. Any sort of decoration to spruce up his room and show off his interests.

________ _ _ _ _

Nothing.

________ _ _ _ _

In one corner of the room, there was Leonardo's bed, which had been made at some point in the day. Raphael would never figure out when Leonardo had the time to make his bed. Next to the bed was a nightstand, with nothing more than a lamp on it, and he didn't dare search the drawers. There was nothing else in the entire room, making it probably the most boring room to be in on the planet. Being in it was like having to watch paint dry.

________ _ _ _ _

Raphael grimaced, realizing that they wouldn't find a lot of evidence in Leonardo's room.

________ _ _ _ _

Behind him, Michelangelo spoke up, "His room is... Kinda empty."

________ _ _ _ _

"We're not going to find anything here, Raph," Donatello stated the obvious, but he had an undertone of desperation.

________ _ _ _ _

"I know," Raphael gruffly responded, "I know."

________ _ _ _ _

He considered turning back and looking on the surface, it would more than the empty shell of a room. So he turned, shouldered past his two younger brothers, and started making his way to the turnstiles, the closest exit.

________ _ _ _ _

"Let's head up to the surface. We have a better chance of finding 'im there," he said, trying to fill in for Leonardo as best he could.

________ _ _ _ _

The turnstiles clicked loudly as he went through, pushing himself to go as fast as he could. His immediately younger brother pushed himself in between the ladder and Raphael, however, stopping his advances.

________ _ _ _ _

"Raph, be reasonable, it's full daylight," Donatello reasoned softly, "We all want Leo back, but if we go out now, there will be humans. We need to wait."

________ _ _ _ _

Raphael hated to admit it, but the genius was right. He would be putting all of them at risk by running out during the day. He growled and slammed his fist against the wall.

________ _ _ _ _

"Raph, I want Leo back as much as you do, but we can't get him back now."

________ _ _ _ _

"I know. I know, I know," Raphael snarled.

________ _ _ _ _

He hated feeling so useless, feeling like his brother was most likely suffering at enemy hands. Had somebody terrible gotten Leonardo?

________ _ _ _ _

%%%

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo's breath clouded in the air in front of him, a chill running down his spine as his eyes opened. He had passed out long before they started freezing his cell. He wasn't exactly sure what they wanted from him, or what they were waking him up for, but it certainly wouldn't be good. There was nothing else he could do besides wait, and watch.

________ _ _ _ _

Waiting.

________ _ _ _ _

Waiting.

________ _ _ _ _

And. Waiting.

________ _ _ _ _

Letting the time pass by, lost in his own thoughts.

________ _ _ _ _

The door opened up and revealed Razhaar on the other side. His guard crept closer, and burrowed his bone-like claws into Leonardo's arms as he pulled the chains off the wall, and changed the chains on his legs to get him moving. He didn't bother trying to get Leonardo to move, he simply lifted the chains and lifted Leonardo with it. Leonardo let that happen, limping as Razhaar dragged him along.

________ _ _ _ _

He wondered what forms of torture they would put him through this time, even though they hadn't asked him anything yet.

________ _ _ _ _

He had a feeling he knew what the question would be anyway.

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo was dragged into a completely empty room, other than a few chains laying in the middle of the room. He didn't move as Razhaar dropped him directly on top of the chains, and wrapped one chain around his left ankle. He removed the other chains on his ankles and wrists, leaving just the one chain on his left ankle. Then, Razhaar left.

________ _ _ _ _

The room was silent.

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo sat up in the center of the room, looking around the blank room, which reminded him much of his own room at the lair. The room held nothing of importance, nothing to help him escape.

________ _ _ _ _

There was the soft sound of bricks grating together in movement, and then he could hear water spilling into the room, splashing against stone brick tile. He strained to see in the dark room, and found water pouring from small holes in the wall that weren't there before. The water wasn't gathering too fast, until a few more bricks slid back, allowing more water into the room. Leonardo scrambled to his feet, looking around for a weak point in the mechanics, a way to rip the chain out of the floor, anything.

________ _ _ _ _

Black water began to pool lightly at his feet, posing no threat.

________ _ _ _ _

Yet.

________ _ _ _ _

Over the next couple of minutes, a few more bricks would slide back every couple of seconds, allowing more water to rush into the room, already ankle deep. Leonardo pulled on the chain, tugging on it with as much power as he could, but his efforts were in vain. With a small growl as he heard more bricks grate against each other and the water began rising faster, he turned to try and find the door. He knew that, too, would be pointless. The door was locked and reinforced, he could tell. Then, there was his ability as an aquatic turtle to lean on. As a Red-Eared Slider, he would have been able to stay underwater for up to thirty minutes. However, he was part human, so at most he could stay underwater for maybe fifteen minutes. Maybe.

________ _ _ _ _

Leonardo had no other choice than to lean on that, and took deep breaths, fighting against panic.

________ _ _ _ _

The water continued to rise higher, faster with every couple of bricks that allowed more water in. It didn't take long for the cold water to reach his waist, then his chest, his neck. He trembled, shivered, really, and got ready to swim if need be, although he questioned if the chain was long enough. Soon, the water was above his head, and he focused on floating, rising with the water, but then something stopped him. A tug on his ankle, holding him down. He froze as the water continued to rise higher, and turned to look at the chain. The chain had gone taut, showing that it would allow him to swim no further. The water began to rise above his head, submerging him.

________ _ _ _ _

It didn't bother him at first, he could hold his breath.

________ _ _ _ _

A minute passed.

________ _ _ _ _

Five minutes.

________ _ _ _ _

Ten minutes.

________ _ _ _ _

Holding his breath became a struggle at that point, but the water was nearly at the ceiling, so he couldn't get out.

________ _ _ _ _

Fifteen minutes passed, and his lungs clawed for air, screaming and struggling. He tried again to pull the chain out of the floor, to no avail. The water had hit the ceiling, but the door, maybe the door, if he could get to it he could figure something out-

________ _ _ _ _

The darkness started creeping in at the edges of his vision as he sucked in a mouthful of water that he tried not to choke on.

________ _ _ _ _

It crept ever closer, threatening to drown him. Water rushed into his lungs and made his throat raw from accidentally sucking in water instead of air. He ended up choking on his own spasming lungs, which worsened the situation. His strength seeped from his body at a rapid pace, his struggles weakening by the second until he finally couldn't continue to try and keep himself from taking in the water that surrounded him. The darkness advanced, closing in faster, taking him away.

________ _ _ _ _

Then the water started lowering, reaching down to his face, and letting him take deep, strangled breaths before breaking into a painful coughing fit. It lowered further, pulling him back down to the floor as there was no need to float. His feet touched the floor and he dropped to his knees, flailing his hands to catch himself, then continued to cough, pain shooting through his raw throat.

________ _ _ _ _

He fell farther and faceplanted into the floor, thankful the water had drained. A heavy shifting noise came from behind him, followed up by the sound of the door opening.

________ _ _ _ _

%%%

________ _ _ _ _

Raphael looked up at the manhole, where it was beginning to be nightfall.

________ _ _ _ _

The time to find their brother had come, and they wouldn't fail at their task.

________ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is only 4000 words D:
> 
> ALSO sorry about how jonky time is at the beginning of this chapter. I'm tired so my brain is jonky but my brain telling me no isn't going to stop me from writing fic :>
> 
> I'll produce better stuff I promise lol


	3. It's Been... Rough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick 3000 word update on how people are feeling after a week.
> 
> Leo may be going slightly insane
> 
> Raph, for the first time in his life, is thinking XD (but he's got some serious self confidence issues)
> 
> Donnie is probably having a mental breakdown
> 
> And Mikey is just sad 
> 
> ENJOY

Leonardo presumed that it had been a week since he was captured and the torture began.

He wasn't exactly sure, though. It could have been shorter, could have been longer. They never allowed him to see daylight. In fact, they had different rooms, cut off from anything else, including light, simply to make sure he couldn't get any glimpse of the outside world.

One room would be filled up with water after chaining him down, and another simply had a bucket filled with water they would shove his head into until he couldn't breathe. Both rooms served the same purpose.

A lot of the time he would be taken to Baxter Stockfly's lab, either to electrocute him until he couldn't scream anymore, or to let Baxter experiment on him.

After day one of bleeding him dry, they moved that form of torture from the Shredder's throne room to a completely separate one, deep underground.

Meaning: They had been keeping him far from the outside world. So, he wasn't sure how long it had been.

He did know, however, that at one point, very early in his capture, he could hear others being tormented in Baxter's lab.

...

He wasn't brought to the lab much, in that time. They even moved him to a separate cell, deeper under the earth, closer to the interrogation room.

...

He also wasn't woken up much, in that time.

...

He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

The questions in his in interrogation were exactly what he thought they would be.

_Where is your master?_

_Where is your hiding place, turtle?_

So on and so forth.

Every time he was interrogated, all he did was remain silent, determined to be loyal to his family, loyal to the Hamato Clan.

If he didn't, they would die.

After maybe a week, there were already massive declines in his physical health, other than them bleeding him dry.

He could feel something wrong with his shell. It felt... Softer, like it wasn't protecting him as much. Strikes to his shell hurt much, much more. He also felt off. They didn't feed him much, but he was less hungry than he should have been. He felt a little more tired, weighed down.

Sickly.

He was still planning to escape, despite physical ailments.

He had to, he needed to.

He was their brother, their leader, and if he let anything prevent him from keeping them safe, he would have failed them, something he could never let happen.

And so, he would endure another day of torture, just for them.

He turned his head away from the blinding light in the room and closed his eyes as the blindfold was pulled off of his face.

%%%

Raphael stood on a rooftop, glaring at nothing in particular, fists curled so tight his hands were shaking, deeply missing the voice of reason that was always there and could always tell him what to do, yet that voice wasn't there. The world seemed to be against them. To start, they had no clue where their eldest was. For second, they had no clue if he was even alive. Even if- No, _when_ they found him, would he make it? What if he was injured? More likely, what if he was badly injured? What if his injuries were so bad that he wouldn't live for too long after he was found? The mere thought of it gave Raphael chills. When they found him, would he even be alive? If he had been suffering too much, Raphael silently wished that Leonardo wouldn't be. If he was alive but was suffering beyond saving, then Raphael would-

He would do it. He would put Leonardo out of his misery. He would end his suffering if it meant that his brother wouldn't be in anymore pain.

These were the thoughts running through Raphael's head at three in the morning, bringing on the strong beginnings of a migraine and a cold feeling of dread that closed around his chest and began crushing his heart.

His breath caught in his throat and he blinked to get rid of the burning feeling in his emerald green eyes. He would not cry.

_He would **not** cry._

Raphael, frustrated, swallowed thickly and shook his head before turning to his younger brothers.

His head spun with a fresh round of thoughts.

He wasn't ready for the role of leader, and he never would be. Unlike him, Leonardo was perfect for the role. He always had a plan, had back-ups. He spent hours on one plan, and when- _If_ his plan went wrong, he always had a back-up plan to lean on, or thought on his feet and had a completely new one ready. The point was, he was always ready, no matter what. He was confident, and could handle the stress of their lives on his hands. Leonardo was so good at being leader, as much as Raphael teased him for it.

Raphael, in comparison, wouldn't do half as well as Leonardo.

Michelangelo and Donatello both looked away from their feet and up at Raphael from where they were sitting on the roof. Michelangelo's baby blue eyes held a deep, aching hurt and dying hope, while Donatello's reddish-brown eyes showed mild curiousity as to what their second oldest brother had to say, but most of all, they held the same amount of hurt as Michelangelo's. Raphael's soul ached to comfort his brothers, wishing that he could tell them that everything would be okay. But, it wouldn't be okay. It would probably never be okay again. In fact, should they find their brother and see him through his recovery, then Leonardo would still hold those memories. There would always be that horrible pain. And that would never leave. Raphael took a breath.

"C'mon. We hafta keep looking," Raphael said, hoping his voice didn't tremble when he spoke.

His two younger brothers nodded and stood. It was obvious that their hope was dying too, just like Raphael's. Even ever-cheerful Michelangelo was losing his determination. Slowly but surely, they were all losing their hope that they would find their eldest. And with it, their determination to look.

Raphael unfurled his hands out of their fists, and turned back to the city.

He couldn't behave like that. Couldn't just- _Give up._ Couldn't just give up on Leonardo like that when their brother was surely alive. Not well, but alive. The Shredder would need Leonardo alive if he wanted to use Leonardo as bait.

Raphael turned back to his two brothers, nodded, and shot off into the darkness, launching over the rooftops with his brothers following close behind.

%%%

The _pain_ and _loneliness_ and _starvation_ was eating away at Leonardo, making his days seem so slow, as it ate away at him like acid. He trembled slightly, pulling at the chains and listening to the chatter in response. Had he forgotten the always present pain? No, of course not. He could never, even if he tried. It was always there. Even if it was the sharp _agony_ that ripped through his body daily, it still hurt, a low throb in the background that made it harder to move. The _hunger_ was there. Made him want to scream from the hollow feeling in his stomach. Despite how much it hurt to have food so close and be starving, he often refused the food they gave him. He didn't know if it was drugged or poisoned, but he would guess it was. Sometimes, though, he would cave and eat the meager rations of bread and water that they gave him. He always felt... Off, afterwards. The world spun so much and he felt like he was going to vomit and-

Oh yes. Definitely drugged. As if putting him through copious amounts of pain, starving him, and forcing him into a hibernating state when they weren't torturing him wasn't enough. He stared at his fresh blood on the floor and shifted to give his arms a break from being pulled behind him so often. More recently, that was all he saw. Blood and darkness. The way each day was agonisingly slow darkened his world further. He shivered. How could be let them get to him? He was weak.

But then again, anyone would be weak after seeing _him_ day after day.

Anyone would be weak after a few days the constant blood pouring down their skin.

Anyone would be weak after being electrocuted.

After being drowned.

After being forced through their new simulation and being so mentally and physically exhausted.

But he wasn't supposed to be anyone.

He was supposed to be Leonardo, _leader_ of his team, _eldest_ of his brothers, the _heir_ to the Hamato clan, the _responsible_ one. _Fearless_.

Ah, responsibility. A horrible thing, in some matters. He was always the one responsible when things went wrong, he was always the one who took responsibility for his brothers' wrong-doings, their mistakes. He was always the one who had to look after them and make sure they were safe, even though they hated him for it.

Leonardo took a trembling breath, in and out, and watched his breath cloud in the air before disappearing like mist. He closed his eyes to stop looking at the blood.

Being the responsible and fearless one, meant he also had to be the _strong_ one.

He wasn't allowed to be weak, even if after a long day, it was something he wished he could be.

Weak. Could allow somebody to help. Could allow himself to relax and stop taking everything upon himself.

Things he could not do, as exampled by his capture.

He couldn't allow himself to do those things, yet he was still weak. Even if he wouldn't allow himself to break.

He wouldn't break.

In a panicked haze as a fog settled over his mind, Leonardo tried to recall what he had learned from being dragged around, and began mapping out the building in his head, but the cold was closing in. He wasted time. He shouldn't have been thinking about suffering, he should've been planning.

The _pain_ and _loneliness_ and _starvation_ was eating away at him, forced him away from logical thoughts. He shut his eyes and was forced into a hibernating state.

He wouldn't break, no matter how hard they tried, no matter how much pain he was in and how much he missed his family. He wouldn't. That was all he could do.

%%%

Donatello sat alone in his lab, the goggles he used when using the torch on, yet his most recent project was shoved away from him, nearly pushed off the table, and his face was buried into his arms. He wasn't even sure what it was going to be anymore, all of his ideas mumbling and buzzing in the background of his head, more of a low, monotonous hum then anything. Anytime he tried to reach them, they always slipped out of his grasp, like sand slipping between his fingers. Even then, as he slowly looked up at his project before him, he couldn't grab at the string of thoughts that was attached to that project, like a leech to flesh. It was just... Gone. Looking at the blueprints only confused him, the letters and numbers jumbling together into clumps of gibberish. Donatello buried his face back into his arms, silent for a moment.

And then he screamed, standing, ripping his goggles off, and tossing them to the side, along with the prototype that had barely begun being built. Of course, the sound of shattering metal brought Raphael and Michelangelo to the lab.

Red and orange.

They were missing a vitally important color from their family.

Blue.

He wanted to see that color again. See the sapphire/cobalt blue mask to match the equally blue eyes.

And yet as he turned to see his brothers, all he could see were red and orange.

Red and orange masks.

Green and baby blue eyes.

No sapphire/cobalt.

Donatello opened his mouth into a bloodcurdling mixture between a frustrated snarl and another scream as he turned back to his work.

"Donnie-" Raphael began.

"I don't understand!" Donatello shouted. He wasn't usually one to lose his temper, but that moment, right then, was an exception. He continued his rant, sorting haphazardly through his work to see where he went wrong, maybe to see why they couldn't find Leonardo. "Where could he even be?! We've looked everywhere, Raph! Our entire patrol area has been thoroughly scanned from top to bottom! The Mutanimals never saw any other prisoners when they were taken captive, even though our first lead was the Shredder! And since we've checked even outside our patrol area, and in buildings that could possibly be another hideout for Shredder, he can't be held in another building!" he leaned forward to set his elbows on the table as he reached up to his head and grabbed the sides of it, "I hate this! We have no other leads and no place to look! What if he's hurt? What if they moved him out of country? What if he was killed?!"

Raphael grabbed Donatello's shoulders with a death grip so tight that Donatello was sure he heard his shoulders crack.

"Donnie," Raphael said, the exasperation and exhaustion in his voice matching the way Donatello felt. Donatello felt the guilt rush in. "We're doing our best. There's no way Leo died, because why would somebody kill him? He knows to stay away from humans, and all our enemies would prefer to use him as a bargaining chip, bonehead."

The guilt washed out any other emotions in Donatello that might have eased some of the pain. Right, right. Only humans would kill Leonardo. Even then, they might be more interested in keeping him alive and finding out why he even existed. He wasn't dead. He wasn't. _He wasn't._

Donatello brushed Raphael's hands off with surprising ease and stepped back, staring ashamedly at the shattered pieces of the build he had recklessly swept off his desk. What kind of fool was he? Blowing up like that? His brothers probably thought something exploded and he got hurt, or maybe some of the Kraang technology he had did something odd, did something to _him._

Worrying about him instead of looking for their leader.

Just like he was moping instead of looking for their brother.

Raphael took a step back, his face flushing at how soft he had been for that moment, when he was supposedly the tough guy.

Michelangelo watched his two older brothers, the worried expression clear on his face. He was the more emotional of the four brothers, and therefore likely to react more strongly when one or more of his brothers were in emotional distress, and, being the sunshine child, was more likely to experience even stronger emotional distress than any of them. Unshed tears sparkled in baby blue eyes. He, out of all of them, had taken it the hardest and cried the most. Panicking, screaming, and blowing up would only further distress their baby brother, and Donatello had to avoid doing that.

He smoothed over the stormy sea of his emotions and pushed the next incoming storm back so that he could comfort his younger brother, just as Raphael had comforted him. Donatello drew closer to Michelangelo.

"Sorry about that Mikey," he soothed, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt, "It's just... You know how it is." Donatello smiled to mask his sadness and prayed that Michelangelo only saw the smile and not the sorrow.

Michelangelo paused, then blinked away the tears and nodded feverishly. "Mhm..." His voice trailed off at the end, as if he didn't believe it himself.

The baby brother left in a hurry, for reasons unknown, and left Donatello and Raphael alone. There was a pause of silence where neither of them spoke. It would have been comforting, had they not been avoiding speaking much for the majority of the week.

So, neither of them dared say something, for fear of upsetting the other.

Soon, their youngest brother came back, carefully balancing three mugs of hot chocolate before handing them out, one to Donatello and one to Raphael. Both took their mugs thankfully, and nodded appreciation to Michelangelo.

Then, it was just the three of them standing in silence, unsure of what to say.

Donatello sipped his hot chocolate and grimaced momentarily. He would've prefered coffee.

But.

The warmth and correct amount of sweetness was welcome. It soothed him to the bones, made him feel warm and happy even though he should've still felt hollow and guilty. He sat on the floor, even though his chair was right next to him. His brothers followed seconds after, Michelangelo leaning on the brother that was closest, which happened to be Raphael. Raphael didn't complain, only grunted and shifted his arm to make room for Michelangelo and drape his arm over the orange-clad turtle's shoulders as he took another sip of hot chocolate.

A general question popped into Donatello's head.

What time was it?

He put his mug down, pulled his Shell Phone out of it's pocket on his belt, and turned the screen on to check the time.

11:35 a.m..

Good. It wasn't too late, meaning he hadn't broke Leonardo's curfew-

Oh.

Right.

Donatello put his Shell Phone back and picked the mug back up to sip at the warm, chocolatey liquid. The pain returned, and he wanted the temporary happiness back, even if just for a moment. But of course, now he was thinking about it and couldn't _stop_ thinking about it, so the pain only grew into something horrendous. Donatello put his mug on his desk and stood.

"I'm going to bed," he mumbled.

"Right now?" Raphael replied skeptically. Donatello never went to bed that early.

"Yeah. Can't build anything right now," Donatello replied dutifully. That, and the fact he wanted escape from the pain by sleeping. If sleep would come.

He made his way out of the lab as fast as he could, not wanting to linger any longer as his brothers might prod for more reasons. He couldn't bare to see Leonardo's face if- _when_ \- they found him and he saw what a wreck Donatello had become. As he left, he glanced at the shattered beginnings of his project. He'd have to fix it before Leonardo came back.

Donatello crept into his room, not bothering to turn a light on.

He crawled into his bed.

Went to sleep.

...

He didn't dream that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I also mention Leo might be coming down with something ;)
> 
> (Sorry for how quickly some things are moving)


	4. Very Much (Not) Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon? What's that? Never heard of it.
> 
> (A.K.A. I'm straying away from designated episode and just throwing this somewhere in season 3)
> 
> ****  
> _ALSO GORE WARNING, NEAR THE END OF THE CHAPTER, ONCE IT SWITCHES AWAY FROM LEONARDO'S BROTHERS PERSPECTIVES, THERE WILL BE A BONE ALMOST POKING OUT OF THE SKIN (ew I know). WHEN LEONARDO IS FOUND, THERE WILL BE AN IN-DEPTH DESCRIPTION OF HIS CONDITION, AND IT IS NOT PRETTY. SKIP TO THE END OF THE LAST BIT OF HIS BROTHER'S PERSPECTIVES IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO AVOID IT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. BLOOD AND INJURY IS EVEN IN THE TAGS, DANG IT_  
> 

Raphael stared.

Raphael could not _stop_ staring.

He could not stop staring because it was a _giant blood stain with matching drag marks that led into the unknown._

Donatello said nothing as he moved closer to the blood. It had dried considerably, but was still reddish-brown, sticky, tacky, more like jello then liquid blood, and it had a layer that was easy to scrape off the ground of the alleyway.

He pulled a test tube out of his belt (Raphael had no clue why the purple-clad turtle even carried them around half the time) and scraped some of the blood into in, shoving a small cork into the mouth of the tube like he wished he could throttle it instead of carefully handling it and putting it back in his belt.

It had been a month and a half of searching.

If anybody asked Raphael, he would say that, no, he didn't know why they bothered to keep searching. It felt... Traitorous, to feel that they should give up and stop searching for their brother, but it had been a _month and a half_ of searching with no results.

All they got was more disappointment and grief, a feeling they had to get used to.

Then, there was a deathly quiet thud, a too familiar voice going: "Looking for something?"

Raphael whirled around to face the opponent, sais drawn and ready to attack whoever dropped in on them. He knew his brothers took similar action, but Michelangelo was too tense, and Donatello was _slow_ and _tired_.

A growl formed, rumbling deep in his throat, as he made eye contact with the Shredder. " _What did you do with him?_ "

Shredder _smiled_ , taunting them, making the answer so plain to see, but Raphael didn't want to believe it. His brother couldn't be, there was no way, he was strong, he was strong he wouldn't die his brother was alive-

" _WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BROTHER?!_ " Raphael practically screeched the next words, an near unholy sound that, surprisingly, drew no attention. When he got no response, only a victorious _smirk_ , he took a deep, shuddering breath. He wouldn't he wouldn't he wouldn't _he wouldn't_ \- " _ANSWER ME!_ "

He drew another gasp, his grip on his weapon of choice so tight he could've cracked the hilt.

Shredder produced a mask, a _blue bandana oh God_ -

At least, it might've been blue at one point. It was stained in blood, some areas much heavier than others, so heavy that the cloth was near black. Even where the bleeding had been lighter, the cloth was almost purple. The worst of it was in between the eyes, slightly covering the right eye, and looking as though there had been a head wound. At the ends, the mask was completely frayed into strings, and there were cuts in the cloth.

Michelangelo's breathing hitched, and Donatello went deathly quiet behind Raphael.

Raphael did not get such a _reasonably_ calm response to looking at the "trophy".

He paused for a second.

And then he screamed, running at Shredder. He had no plan whatsoever, and would most likely get killed, but he didn't exactly care in the fit of rage. He lunged, trying to stab that excuse for a person, to take his life in exchange for Leonardo's, and was thrown to the ground, a short wheeze of air escaping his lungs. The man didn't take advantage of Raphael being down, only grinned, and waited for the enraged red-clad turtle to get back up.

"Your brother died like a true samurai: Honorably, and in battle."

Raphael rose, and ran at Shredder again. " _LIAR!_ "

It took a flick of his wrist, and Raphael was thrown backwards, into the waiting arms of his brothers.

"He fought bravely, but when the time came, he did not beg for his life. He bid his final farewells and waited for the final strike."

The second eldest screamed again and fought the grip of his brothers to get back at the Shredder. When Donatello finally, finally spoke, his voice was strong, clipped, and urgent.

"Raph! You need to stop, you'll get killed too! There's no point in having _two_ dead brothers!"

Raphael paused for a moment as he decided, glaring at a spot on the ground like it had personally offended him. If he kept attacking, then his younger brothers could get killed too, and he wasn't willing to take that risk. He growled slightly, and nodded.

"Fine."

The three begrudgingly retreated as fast as they could (which wasn't very fast at the moment), even though the Shredder _clearly_ didn't have any intention on following them.

He probably only planned to leave them alive to suffer.

As they hid away, onto the rooftops, then into an alleyway a couple blocks down to get into the sewers, Raphael kicked at the ground and growled, before stopping. His shoulders slumped, and he looked towards his brothers. Donatello was staring at the ground as he trudged along, face unreadable, but definitely felling the same pain as his brothers. Michelangelo, however, was more open about how he felt, wrapping his arms around himself and eyes shining. Raphael knew that it was the youngest's tendency to take losses harder then others.

Raphael made it his job to try and comfort his brother, but that soft, motherly stuff was all Leonardo's job. He was _always just there_ when they needed him. A hug and comforting words for Michelangelo, talking sense into Donatello, getting Raphael to calm down before he hurt somebody, and always, always a listening ear to anybody who needed it. That wasn't Raphael's thing. He didn't do soft, mushy feeling stuff like that. He... Wasn't sure he would be good at it.

"Hey, Mike," he began, already sure that he was doing it wrong, "it'll be okay, alright? It'll be fine." Raphael inwardly cringed because _no, it would not be alright, their oldest brother was dead_. "Leo is strong, and Shredder is probably lying. It's fine, it's fine."

Michelangelo was doing a pretty good job of holding it together, for being known as the most emotional brother.

And _then_ he started crying.

Raphael knew he was doing it wrong. "Hey, hey- Hey! Mikey, Mikey, calm down, it'll be okay, shshshshshhh..."

Michelangelo crumpled to the floor, Raphael crouching and supporting him, and took short, choking sobs, gasping for breath and blinking rapidly as tears streamed down his cheeks. Donatello got on his knees next to Michelangelo, and rubbed circles on his shell, speaking in soft tones and trying to coax their baby brother to _please stop crying_. Raphael remained with his brothers for support, but was thankful that Donatello was there and helping, since he was more in touch with emotions then Raphael was, even if he wasn't quite as good as Leonardo.

Raphael was already on the edge of breaking down, too, after his grand display of trying to get back at Shredder. He did not need this.

It took a few moments of heart wrenching sobs and short, distressed wheezes accompanied by Donatello's quiet reassurances before Michelangelo's wails finally died down to hiccups and leftover tears. He whined, leaning against Raphael's shoulder and gripping Donatello's hand.

"I'm- Scared, Raphie, Don-Donnie," he croaked, "He- He took Leo..! What if we're nex-t? _What if Ma-ster Splinter is n-next?_ "

Raphael grimaced, taking the dark realization as best as he could. "If things get bad, Mikey, we'll move upstate again until things calm down."

Michelangelo hiccupped a few more times before reluctantly nodding. Instead of moving, the three just... Sat. Let the new bit of information sink in. None of them said anything, but did they have to?

No.

Absolutely not.

So, they continued to sit, huddled together like they used to when they still merely children.

Technically, they _were_ still children. They were children by legal standards, at least. So... It was fine for them to just sit together like when they were younger? Donatello sighed at some point, Michelangelo fell asleep, Raphael stared ahead at a wall with a blank stare and a head finally empty of thoughts.

%

They lost track of time, and only realized what time it was when the sun peeked past the horizon, over the rooftops, into the alleyway, and down into the sewers through a distant manhole. Raphael didn't like it, because at that moment he didn't need the company of only two brothers, a cheerful sun reminding him that he should be asleep, and the sound of the city waking up, several dozen humans talking at once, a dog barking, the constant click of heels on the concrete and cars driving to their destination before there were traffic jams and flaring tempers. What he needed were _thunderstorms_ , he needed _chaos, cloudy skies, firestorms, erupting volcanos, earthquakes, monsters throwing themselves out from the sea and the splitting earth._ But, instead, he was just sitting there, staring at the sun with bleary eyes before he tore his gaze away to see his two, sleeping, younger brothers. He considered letting them just sleep, but he couldn't carry both. Raphael heaved a breathless sigh and gently prodded Michelangelo, who was closer, since he _really_ didn't have the energy needed to reach over Michelangelo to awaken the older of the two first.

Michelangelo snapped out of light dozing, and blinked a couple times before rubbing bloodshot eyes and shaking his head. A groan escaped him as he turned his head to look at Raphael, and he smiled halfheartedly.

"Dude, did you catch the license plate of the bus that hit me?" he attempted at a joke.

Raphael shook his head and nudged the orange-clad turtle to get up. "Nah, but it got me too."

Michelangelo quirked the corners of his lips upward in a mostly-sincere smile as he gave Donatello a shake. "You must've gotten hit first, because you look like _actual crap_."

Raphael only grunted and helped Donatello stumble up into a standing position as he woke up. Still groggy, Raphael supposed, since it was too likely that Donatello hadn't been sleeping, and slept much deeper than Michelangelo had. He wished he could've slept at all.

_Eh,_ thought Raphael, _I'll sleep when we get back._

After waiting for Donatello to wake up enough to stand on his own, they started on their way back to the lair. Raphael scolded himself silently for letting them linger out in the sewers for so long, where they could've been found. It would've been safer to get to the lair. But, Michelangelo was crying, and they were tired, and _grieving_ , and Donatello was tired and Raphael couldn't take it. Besides, they were fine, right? He could almost hear Leonardo's voice, _We could've been found, or hurt, or killed! This was reckless, we shouldn't make this a habit._ Raphael grinned sadly, staring at the ceiling, knowing that his brothers were _watching_.

"Uh... You must've hit your head harder then we thought, Raph, you good?" Michelangelo said, one eye ridge raised.

Raphael nodded slightly and closed his eyes, focusing on the way his feet dragged on the floor. "Yeah..." his voice drifting off, before it came back, stronger than it had been, "Yeah, I'm fine."

It really and truly seemed like his brothers didn't believe him, but they left it alone.

Because they felt exactly the same.

%

Despite the fact that it was late (morning for humans, but still), they were wrapped in the arms of their father, the smell of Japanese incense completely surrounding them and momentarily giving them a sense of calm.

"My sons," Splinter spoke nervously, tightening his grip on his three sons like he planned on never letting go, "I thought you were lost, too."

Michelangelo broke down again, wailing in distress and returning his father's hug tenfold. Raphael and Donatello let Michelangelo get Splinter's complete attention and slipped out of his grip while he was distracted, both retreating to their respective spaces to watch the youngest without bumping into each other.

It was better that way, at the moment.

%

Life went on.

They continued to go on patrol.

They at least _tried_ to keep a cheerful outlook.

They trained.

That didn't mean they liked the way life kept moving and didn't _care_.

%

Leonardo gasped in pain with the first step he took on his own, using his broken leg. He crumpled to the floor, trying to resist the urge to grab it _but it hurt so much_. He shouldn't have been trying to escape so soon if they had to break his leg a _second time_ because it healed wrong, but he had to get away or he was going to die in there, in that God-forsaken cell-

He trembled, and gasped, and was generally _taking too long because of a stupid break in his right leg._ A guard lay unconscious behind him, choked out using the chains that bound Leonardo's hands, but he would wake up soon and Leonardo _wasn't moving._ He twisted to face the guard, still on the ground, and fumbled to steal a knife from them. Once he had, he set to picking the lock to the bindings on his wrists, jaw set in grim determination. Soft clicking from the lock accompanied repressed hisses of pain, and quiet breathing. Finally, the bindings fell off, and he went to do the bindings on his ankles, but _people were coming, he needed more time_ -

Leonardo panicked, and tried to pick the lock faster. He was experienced, yes, but he was probably doing it wrong, he was probably doing it wrong he was going to die-

It unlocked, and the bindings loosened, just to be quickly kicked off by the person they had been restraining.

He stumbled back to his feet, stood on _both_ his two legs, and nearly crumpled back to the floor almost immediately, gasping in agony like a fish out of water. It felt like the bones in his leg were _grinding_ against each other and trying to _push_ their way out of his skin, _splintering_ agony _flared_ up his leg. He almost cried, eyes stinging. He almost felt breathless, and his heart was pounding, causing his whole body, every injury, to throb and pulsate with pain and _burn_. He could hear them behind him though, even though the sounds felt so far away, their shouts, somebody was running over to him to grab him, he didn't want to go back in the cell-

Leonardo wheezed before he stood, the world tipping, him feeling so horribly nauseous, people behind them, they were going to grab him and it would be over if he _didn't suck it up and run already_.

He ignored the way his entire body screamed at him to stop moving before he seriously injured himself, and ran.

Full-on ran.

With a _broken leg_.

The shouts behind him intensified, more exasperated then anything. He _was_ a stubborn prisoner.

His leg erupted in excruciating pain with every step he took, his whole body aching in response, but he couldn't stop then, he needed a way out before he was _killed_.

Leonardo didn't try to attack anyone who tried to stop him, because that would've ended in absolute failure. So, instead, he just dodged them, and kept running. Fight or flight plus adrenaline really did something for him, he supposed. Not that it was a good thing in situations like "escaping from an enemy's hideout while ill, covered in bleeding wounds, and oh yeah was it mentioned that one of your legs is broken and the other just finished healing". Or maybe it was, he didn't really know or care at that point. There was light ahead of him, peeking in from a crack in a door, but he reached the throne room, and would jump out a window if it was called for. The Shredder was standing _right there in front of the door where did he even come from_ , so Leonardo just... Took the latter option and jumped out a window. The sound of shattering glass filled his already ringing ears, shards cutting into his skin as it broke, and it was _daytime_ , but he was free, he was _out_. The sun was setting anyway.

Shattering glass drew people's attention, but he was already gone, collapsing into an alleyway and heaving air into his lungs. Everything felt hot around him and he was _queasy_ and his leg was _on fire_. The running had agitated his wounds, he was bleeding _more_ , but he forced himself to turn his head and look at the source of the most pain.

The bone was pressed against the skin, pushing against it, _just itching to get free, he shouldn't have been able to see the bone, since it was supposed to be **inside** his leg and not against the skin_-

Leonardo turned his head away from his leg to stare at a wall, pushed himself up with his throbbing arms.

And promptly threw up blood and bile.

He forced himself up, back onto his feet, because he didn't want to lay back down near the pool of blood and something he had thrown up, _God it smelled awful_. Instead of resting like he should've, he limped over to a fire escape, finally favoring his right leg, the broken one. He stared at the fire escape for a moment before grabbing the railing and _slowly_ dragging himself up.

Leonardo could almost hear Donatello, scolding him for being such an idiot and not lying down to take a short rest so that he wouldn't bleed out and die after spending so long planning an escape.

He got on top of the building and trudged along, trying to stay out of sight of the humans while getting away from Shredder's hideout.

He at least got a block's worth of distance in between him and the abandoned church before something hit in the shell.

Leonardo fell, heard something _pop_ and felt white-hot pain blossom like a rose in his left arm, hit his head against something, blacked out.

%

A man dressed in a grayish suit stared at the broken window of the old, abandoned church for a moment, despite the fact that he should be getting home, and many had already moved on. He chose to ignore the blood that lined the shards of glass on the ground. He chose to ignore the flash of green and red and brown that was shaped so much like a humanoid turtle that had promptly disappeared into an alleyway, where he could hear that it was throwing up, _what was wrong with it shouldn't he be helping_ \- He chose to ignore all the things that others hadn't noticed.

Instead, he decided to keep walking like nothing had happened and wonder what bird had been so unfortunate to fly through the thin, weakened glass while not paying attention.

%

Raphael practically dragged Donatello out of his lab by his ankles, over to where Michelangelo was waiting for them.

All the times that he said he didn't think Leonardo's job of taking care of them was too hard? He took it all back. Instead, he was wondering _how Leonardo dealt with them without breaking their necks every single day_. Leonardo and Splinter had the patience of _saints_. That was something Raphael definitely didn't have as he muttered how he was going to kill Donatello later under his breath, said brother dusting himself off and looking like he wished he could kill Raphael with his eyes. Raphael chose to ignore it.

Michelangelo's eyes were slightly red, Raphael noticed. The orange-clad turtle still grieved.

He ignored that, too, deciding not to bring it up and possibly embarrass the youngest. Raphael walked ahead, into the sewers, taking the role of leader, since he was officially the oldest; something he had always wished to be, but not like _this_. Leading his brothers through the sewer, Donatello dragging his feet like he planned on running back to his lab and Michelangelo quieter than usual, he brought them to a ladder up to a manhole. Patrol went normally. As it had for the past two months. Nothing was different, _nothing_.

"Guys?" Michelangelo sounded concerned, and Raphael regretted the thought about it being normal immediately, "Can you c'mere?"

The two older brothers neared the baby, and were almost immediately hit by the smell of copper. Of _blood_.

Raphael realized what his brother was calling them for.

"Mikey," the middle child began, "I don't know if you know, but that's a _lot_ of blood. Even if somebody is around, they've probably bled out already."

"It wouldn't hurt to look though, right?" the youngest defended.

Donatello looked to Raphael for support, and found none. "This is the one time I'll ever say it," Raphael was already regretting his words, "but Mikey is right."

Donatello raised an eye ridge, Michelangelo whooped.

So the search began, starting with the closest alleyway.

The search ended almost as quickly, when Michelangelo stepped in a pool of blood and reeled backwards, bumping into Donatello, who caught and righted him. They turned their gazes up.

Michelangelo screamed, Donatello's breathing hitched, and Raphael near cried.

It was their brother, it was _Leonardo_ , but he was barely recognizable, laying in a pool of his own blood. It was uncertain how long he had been there.

Raphael gave his brother a quick once-over, to assess the damage. It was not a pretty sight, that was for sure.

Starting at his head, there were two long gashes that, thankfully, only broke the skin, and the bleeding was slow, if they were bleeding at all. They were at some point, however, since there were streaks of dried blood on his head. There was a crescent shaped scar around his left eye, caused just barely long enough to be finally counted as a scar. It dodged his eye, but could've been disastrous if it hadn't. There were scratches on his plastron, and a small crack near the center, at the very top. His left shoulder just looked _wrong_ , misshapen, bulbous, rolled too far forward to be natural, and yet he was mostly laying on that, leaned back on his shell slightly. His wrists and ankles were both raw, seeming close to bleeding, from some sort of restraints. Covering his arms were countless injuries. Some were somewhat old, with fresh scar tissue, but others were fresh, and were still bleeding, which prompted the question of _how had he not bled out yet_. His shell, even that looked horribly wrong. It seemed softer than it _definitely_ should've been. On top of that, it was... Discolored, even flaking in some areas and generally _should not have looked like that_. There were cuts, too, scratching at the surface, carefully placed so that they wouldn't go too deep and kill him, and there were bruises too, from being hit by someone or something. There was a stab wound, under his right arm and at the edge of his shell, nearly piercing into his side, but not quite. His right leg made Raphael want to throw up. It was clearly broken, swollen, discolored, and the _bone was pressed up against the skin it should not have looked like that_. That was finally, _finally_ the last of the wounds, and Raphael was ready to walk up to Shredder himself and demand that he fight him.

But not then. Not when the eldest needed them. Raphael started walking up to Leonardo, but was quickly stopped by Donatello, who explained himself before Raphael could throw him off and demand what he was doing.

"Raph, wait! Look at his shell," he waited somewhat patiently while Michelangelo and Raphael looked at Leonardo's shell, "It's Shell Rot, it's contagious. We can't get anywhere near him without risk of getting it, too."

Raphael was genuinely distraught, but glared at Donatello instead. "So? What do you propose we do, then, genius?"

Donatello released him, pulling out his own phone. "I'll call April and Casey and see if they can help."

"And how long will that take?"

"Not too long. April's place shouldn't be too far."

"Then why didn't he go there?!"

"Raph, he was obviously in no position to go. He was probably just trying to get away from Shredder!"

Raphael fumed silently, and waited as Donatello called April and explained what was going on, asking how quickly she could get there. Despite everything, he was slightly relieved. Their brother was alive, and even if they couldn't get near him, they were going home.

They were going to go home, all four of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna know what hit Leo in the shell? ~~The same bird that was actually about to fly into the window~~
> 
> Leo: *escapes from an enemy's hideout, ill, covered in wounds, been electrocuted, been drowned, running with a broken leg in "fight or flight" mode*  
> Also Leo: *gets hit by a bird, falls off a building because dang it he's tired and injured, blacks out*


	5. What Do You Do With A Broken Spirit? (And Bones)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note: A feel that April was an awful character in the show. So even though some of this chapter is in her perspective, she is ✨b e t t e r✨ than she was in the show because authors know what a character arc is.

They had to speed to get there, but nobody had noticed that they were going a bit over the speed limit. It wasn't too much anyway, only five over. That was fine, wasn't it? April was still trying to learn how to drive, and the textbook was so long, and she had school, final exams, and helping the guys search for Leonardo to go with it, so she hadn't really looked at it, but she was fairly certain five over the speed limit would be okay, especially since nobody had seen them.

When they had reached the spot Donatello had told them to go to, April barely waited for the car to stop and be turned off before she got out, unbuckling and reaching for the handle as the car was slowing down. The second it was stopped, however, she threw her door open with enough violent force she could've broken it, and ran into the alleyway without hesitation. Behind her, she heard the car turn off, and Casey came hurtling after her, neither pausing to close the door. By the sound of it, Casey hadn't even opened his, he just threw himself across the car and out the passenger side since the door was already open. That was alright though. Time was of the essence, and even just a few seconds could cost them dearly. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, she wanted to throw up. The state of Leonardo was... Horrible. Absolutely horrible. Michelangelo was nowhere to be seen, so he had most likely been sent home, Donatello was pacing nervously, although when he saw her his eyes lit up, and Raphael was leaned against a wall across the alleyway from Leonardo and glaring at him but also... Not. Watching Leonardo and glaring as he thought angry thoughts.

Donatello hurried over to April and Casey, who had come to stand next to her. "April-!"

April beat him to it. "What do you need us to do?"

Behind her, she could hear Casey mumble: "Dude, what hit 'im?"

Donatello started walking back over to Raphael, his words coming out as fast paced instructions, April and Casey struggling to follow them with how fast he was speaking. "I need one of you to carry him for right now. I'll grab the manhole on your way in and out, but please be careful moving him, he's injured almost everywhere, and even though he isn't really conscious right now, the pain could snap him back to reality, and we don't need a volatile, severely injured and ill patient. Be careful of his shell, it's sensitive, injured, and infected. I'll need you to put him on the couch when we get back, too. If he lashes out when you grab him, step back, just because he's injured and ill does not mean that he doesn't still have his strength and a fighting spirit. We'll try to soothe him, and I can instruct you on how to grab him, even though me, Mikey, and Raph can't get close. Once we get home, I can get what we need for him and give instruction. Okay?"

April blinked and nodded. Now beside her, Casey nodded as well.

"Good," Donatello continued, "now, you'll need to use the Fireman's Carry. It's the easiest way to carry him, since you'll be distributing the weight over your shoulders, and the least haphazard way of holding him."

There was no pause as Casey volunteered, already approaching Leonardo to pick him up.

Nearby, Raphael stood, his whole body rigid and gaze now directed to the floor. April felt sympathy for the second oldest as she approached Leonardo. She knew that he wanted to do something to help, but couldn't. It was frustrating.

Donatello was clearly dubious, but instructed Casey from a safe distance. "You'll want to lift him into a standing position. It's not easy, since he isn't really that conscious right now, but it's doable. Roll him onto his plastron and kneel by his head, then put your arms under his armpits and around his shell, and lift him onto his feet. Lift with your legs, not your back. After that, put your right leg between his legs and drape his right arm over your shoulders using your left hand. Wrap your arm around the back of his right knee, then squat and position his body over your shoulders. Try to distribute his weight so that it's even. Once you're done, grab his right hand with your right hand so that your left is free, and stand."

Casey nodded and grinned, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. "So, pick him up the manly way?"

Raphael growled and smacked Casey in the back of the head. He was just soft at heart, wanting the best for his family, but sometimes that made is so that jokes meant nothing. "Pick 'im up the _careful_ way, idiot. This is about what's the best for him."

Casey winced, but didn't waste anymore time. He followed Donatello's instructions closely, not wanting to awaken the rage of the genius, but also wanting to make sure he wasn't accidentally hurting the injured turtle. However, once he started to stand, he must've startled Leonardo, because once he went to stand, he only got a few inches off the ground before Leonardo yelped, followed up by a growl and him writhing in Casey's grip. Donatello was right about the fighting spirit. Leonardo was desperately trying to get out of their grips, twisting in Casey's grip and aiming his strikes at his head, then rolling out of Casey's grip and scrambling onto his feet behind him. He didn't get far after that, however, dropping to the ground with gasps of pain and grasping at his injured leg.

Then there was panicking, startled shouts, and a sickly turtle trying to inch away from them like they were enemies.

It hurt to think that Leonardo thought that they were the ones who had done that to him while they were trying to help him. It hurt even more to watch him desperately scramble away, even at the risk of worsening his injuries.

Donatello inched as close as he could, brown eyes wide and scared. "Leo? Hey- Hey, Leo, it's us, okay? It's okay, you're going to be okay. You're not thinking straight right now. It's going to hurt, but I need you to just hold still, okay? You're in no condition to walk on your own right now, so we need to carry you."

The sound of Donatello's voice seemed to soothe Leonardo, reassuring him that one of his brothers was nearby. He relaxed a bit, eyes cloudy, and slumped against the wall he had moved to. He was nervous still, yes, but didn't look like a cornered animal who was ready to bite anymore. That was an improvement. Casey cautiously approached Leonardo again, and went through the steps again. Leonardo didn't fight back that time, mostly limp when Casey stood.

Donatello moved to slide the manhole open, but Raphael beat him to it, hopping down into the sewers after he had opened it and hovering near the ladder. April followed him, going down next in case something happened and they needed to catch one or both of them. Casey went next. He used his free hand to climb, and leaned forward to keep Leonardo on his shoulders. At that point, Leonardo was only half awake, with half-lidded eyes watching everything that went on. He still had a defiant look in his eyes, a will to fight back or walk on his own, it wasn't obvious, but it was buried under a tired, dazed look, a cloudiness in his eyes that shouldn't have been there. Once Casey had gotten down and given the two younger turtles ample room to stand in the sewers, Donatello climbed down, closing the manhole after he had gotten into the sewers.

Now, it was April's turn to be dubious.

"Donnie? I don't mean to question your judgement, but if he's injured like that, is the sewers really the best place to be?"

Donatello hummed, considering her question carefully. "Maybe not, but we keep the lair clean enough to not risk infection if one of us has an open wound. On top of that, his open wounds are going to get cleaned regularly, and we can move him to a place of the lab that's been cleared out and sanitized often for situations like this if things get... Ugly."

Casey, who had already started to run, called back to them. "Aren't you guys, like, cold blooded or something?"

Donatello gave a short yelp and ran after him, followed by Raphael and April. "The lights in the lair are UV lights, and there are designated spots where there are heat lamps for basking, so we remain active even in the winter."

With those aspects covered, they settled into an uncomfortable silence, disturbed only by the sounds of running steps. The amount of blood staining Casey's shirt was... Alarming, to say the least. And Leonardo's occasional grunts were not comforting in the slightest. But at least he hadn't gone quiet. If he had gone quiet, then at that point he would've either gone in shock, or bled to death.

The thoughts that lingered in everyone's minds were not comforting either.

The relief flooded them when they got back to the lair, met by an anxious Michelangelo, but they couldn't breath just yet. The couch was cleaned up, ready for the patient. It wasn't the best thing to use, but it was what was available to them. Casey crouched by the couch, and rolled Leonardo off his shoulders and onto the couch before he waited for further direction with April. April paused to notice how warm it was there, but when she stepped to far to the left or right, or stepped back, the temperature lowered. She took note that that spot on the couch was a basking spot.

Donatello stepped up, "Mikey, I need you to go to my lab and get a scalpel, chlorhexidine solution, a bowl of water, gauze bandage rolls, a splint, a stainless steel metal plate, a drill, some stainless steel screws, and sodium chloride." Michelangelo ran off, chasing after Raphael, and Donatello's attention was turned to the two humans. "Give him a once over. How bad is the bleeding? What we are may not be as bad as we think. Check for fluids other than blood, such as pus. We need to know if any of them are infected. How bad is the shell rot? Are there any other changes to his shell, such as softening? Are there any other breaks in his bones? Head injuries? A concussion? Brain damage?"

April and Casey followed Donatello's instructions, checking on Leonardo in place of the genius, and the doctor of the family. The bleeding was heavier than wished, and that was obvious by the blood streaming down Leonardo's skin, soaking the couch. They found every external injury they could, and the distant look in his eyes, the look that wasn't really able to focus on anything, and the drip of blood from his nose that _was not_ a nose bleed, signaled that there was a head injury, something was very wrong. Had he fallen? Hitting the concrete could've cracked his skull. They paused. Then, April pressed her hand against his side, checking for broken ribs, spots where his ribs gave away or where he reacted more strongly to pain. There was a spot on his left side where the ribs gave, and Leonardo grunted, inhaling sharply shortly afterwards. Just breathing seemed to cause him pain, sending off red flags.

April paused and hummed, then spoke, "What you see is mostly the extent of the wounds, but he has three broken ribs on his left side. He has some kind of head injury or brain damage, but I can't tell the severity."

Casey chimed in, "And his shell was weirdly soft. It looks thin, too."

Donatello suddenly looked far more distressed. Not comforting in the slightest.

Before April could ask what it meant, Michelangelo came out of the lab, carefully balancing everything in his arms. Donatello, fearing that something would get dropped, met him halfway and took the medical items from him. Donatello turned to Casey and April. April met him halfway to take the medical supplies from him without risking him getting close to Leonardo, then returned to Casey's side. She didn't need to ask Donatello what to do, he was already explaining.

"You'll want to relocate his shoulder first. We can't do anything with it dislocated. Casey, you'll need to... Restrain him. April, take his wrist in one hand, and his shoulder in the other. You'll be doing slow, gentle, circular motions while pushing his shoulder in until you hear a pop, and his shoulder slips back in place. After that, you'll bandage it and put it in a sling. After that, see what wounds need stitches. If it's deep enough that you can see underlying layers, such as muscles or the bone, you'll definitely need to use stitches. And if it's half an inch long, stitch the wound shut. Once you're done with the stitches, bandage the wounds. Dress the bandages with the sodium chloride. Wrap the dressed bandages around his wounds, then go over the dressed bandages with dry, absorbent ones. Once that's done, you'll do a third layer. This is the outside layer and it _cannot_ get wet. If it gets wet, we'll have to change it, because if it gets wet, bacteria could pass through into his injuries. Then comes his leg. To reset the bone, we'll have to restrain him and... And cut his leg open to shift the bone back into place and secure it with a metal plate. He can't be sedated though. If he has brain damage, then if we sedate him, it's more than likely he won't wake up. After that, take the scalpel and scrape away the dead parts of his shell, to stop the spread of his Shell Rot, and clean it with a mixture of mostly water and the chlorhexidine solution. Bandage it afterwards, then we'll bandage his torso for his broken ribs, and make sure he's comfortable. If his shell is soft and thin, it's most likely Metabolic Bone Disease, or MBD, caused by insufficient lighting or an insufficient diet. It could be both. We need to make sure he gets enough light, either from direct sunlight or the UV lights, and a _normal_ -" he glared over at Michelangelo, making a point, "-diet. It should be balanced. Calcium will be a very important part of recovery, though. He probably can't eat on his own, if at all, so we can do calcium injections since that will be easier if we can't get him any calcium normally. You have him set in a basking spot, but there's ample room to get away from the heat if he gets too hot."

April was suddenly far less certain that Leonardo would live, with most of those directions.

But she did what she was told. She waited not so patiently while Casey held Leonardo's other arm and his left leg, trying to restrain Leonardo so that he wouldn't hit April while simultaneously trying to not get in her way. He grinned sheepishly, and braced for Leonardo to start struggling. April sighed deeply, then set to work, rolling his shoulder with circular motions, pressing in on his shoulder slowly to pop it back in place. It certainly looked uncomfortable. Leonardo, despite everything, reacted strongly to the pain. It starting with a whine, then turned into a hiss, and then full-on screaming. He tried to lash out, only to find he was restrained, which seemed to panic him more, inspiring a stronger resistance. Casey grunted, attempted to hold the screaming turtle still while April relocated his shoulder. Then there was the pop, and Leonardo cried out, louder than the previous screams, before he went limp, giving a low moan. Casey released Leonardo, helping April as she went to bandage his arm, following the instructions Donatello gave about stitching and bandaging Leonardo's injuries. By the time they were finished with the bandaging, he looked a lot more like a mummy than a turtle. April reached over to the nearest blanket, folded it in a triangle, and used that as the sling. Then came the worst part.

April took a deep breath, attempting to soother her nerves, and then spoke, "I need the scalpel."

%%%

April hunched over a trash can in the corner, throwing up, taking deep breaths and almost crying with every single one.

She cut open Leonardo's leg while he was awake and drilled a plate into the bone after _resetting it_.

_She cut open Leonardo's leg while he was awake and drilled a plate into the bone after **resetting it**._

April had never felt so awful.

He had screamed the whole time, and they nearly had to tie him down as she worked. There was blood, _so much blood_ , and she wished that she didn't have to see it, but she and Casey couldn't just swap out in the middle of drilling a plate to his bone to stabilize it.

In the background, Casey was finished up with the stitches and had started bandaging Leonardo's leg, while Donatello remained close to April to comfort her. She could barely make out his quiet comforts that what's done is done, and that it was necessary and he was proud of her for doing it. 

The comforts did nothing to prevent any more guilt.

She took a few more deep breaths, not wanting to leave the safety of the corner and the trash can, but she couldn't leave Casey alone to work, not when they still had a complicated step left.

So she stood back up, wrenching herself away from the trash can, and stumbled back over to Casey, swaying slightly and feeling lightheaded. April helped him in finishing up the bandaging, and then carefully rolled Leonardo onto his plastron, ignoring the way he wheezed when she did so. Casey had given the scalpel to Donatello as April had been scrambling away from Leonardo after she was done, and he had cleaned it for the next part of the process, debriding Leonardo's shell. Another deep breath was required before she began cutting away the dead parts of his shell. She wanted to throw up, but really couldn't at the moment. All the attention that had gone into resetting the bone in his leg was all that she had left, and before she knew it, the scalpel was being taken from her hands while she was guided away, Donatello repeating the instructions to Casey. Somebody was sitting her down and leaning her against a wall, and she was vaguely aware of the orange mask in front of her. Everything was turning into a blur, and she was suddenly so aware of how _tired_ she was, but she silently scolded herself for falling asleep on her feet while trying to do something involving a _scalpel_. But the scolding held no heat, because everything was blurring and the voice in her head was getting so distant...

%%%

Casey had to take over for April, since she was practically falling asleep on her feet in the middle of doing something important.

Donatello was not filled with confidence while considering Casey's ability to do it correctly.

But he did, following Donatello's instructions exactly, even if he asked for those instructions to be repeated occasionally.

Donatello's nerves were shot, so he snapped at Casey quite often. But Casey ignored that, and successfully finished the last of the needed medical attention without a hitch, and Donatello could breath a bit easier. There was one very vital thing left to address, though.

"We couldn't sedate him earlier because of a head injury, as stated. But that also means we can't let him sleep. We can't do an MRI to see how bad it is and if there's brain hemorrhage. We'll have to wake him up every two hours, to make sure he doesn't slip."

There was a long pause of silence. He knew it. He knew this would be too much to ask. They were dealing with final exams, and their homework they were given, on top of that they were most likely _really_ lacking in sleep, and they had families that would be worried if they just disappeared-

"I can do it."

Donatello whipped around to see April, who had raised her hand.

"I can do it," she repeated, "I can call dad and tell him what's going on. I'll ask him to call me in sick for school."

Casey chimed in, "If you're doing it, I might as well, too. We can take shifts, so that one of us can get sleep or study while the other makes sure that Leo doesn't 'slip'." Casey clearly knew what Donatello meant, but refused to say it.

There was a pause of silence as April considered Casey's offer before he nodded.

"..Okay."

April pulled her phone out of her pocket, and slowly dialed a number, still blinking sleep from her eyes. She lifted the phone to her ear, listening to it ring, before Mr. O'Neil spoke from the other side. Their conversation was short, but they quickly established an understanding of how dire the situation was, and Mr. O'Neil allowed her to stay, promising that he would call the school, but asking when she thought she would back. Her eyes met Donatello's, and it was made clear that it could be a few weeks, it could be months. She relayed the information to Mr. O'Neil. Mr. O'Neil was concerned, but allowed for it.

Casey called next, calling his own parents. He lied, saying that he was staying over at a friend's house. Todd, he said. He said that it was serious and he really needed to be there, asked if they could call him in sick. They were more hesitant than Mr. O'Neil, since they didn't fully understand, and asked how long he would be there. He minimized the time, saying two weeks. That certainly put a damper on things, but miracles did happen. He could stay. He wasn't telling a complete lie. He _was_ staying over at a friend's place for something serious, he just... wasn't staying with who they thought he was.

And so, the cycle of watching Leonardo began, waiting to see if he would live or die from it all.

%%%

The days weren't the best.

Casey and April took shifts, like they said they would. One would study, or catch up on sleep, while the other sat next to Leonardo with a timer and something to do, making sure they woke him up every two hours. At twelve, a.m. or p.m., they would switch out, one replacing the other, who went to sleep or study. They'd change the bandages once a day, checking to see how they were doing and if he had popped any stitches, but if the outside layer of any of the bandages had gotten wet, they'd change it sooner. They cleaned the Shell Rot regularly, too, and let it breathe occasionally to help with the healing. He couldn't eat on his own, like they thought, so he was given nutrients through the veins, but that was a short term solution, and they'd need to get him eating normally soon.

Leonardo himself wasn't very active in that time, of course. He was confined to the couch, but he was allowed to move away from the heat lamp, wriggling to a cooler spot to prevent overheating. He zoned in and out a lot. Sometimes he'd attempt to speak (and fail), but most of the time he was silent.

It all made the days long and solemn, as they couldn't know if he was going to live or die.

%%%

_Leonardo was confused._

_For a short period of time, he was actually thinking, his thoughts straight enough to try and figure out where he was._

_He was home, he knew that much, he wasn't **stupid** , but he didn't know **how** he got there. He just remembered being on a roof, but then he was home? How did that happen? Why did every **hurt** -_

_With the next breath, the thought was gone, and he stared at the wall, squirming to get away from the heat and whining quietly from the deep, splintering agony it caused._

%%%

After two weeks, Leonardo's Shell Rot had cleared up, allowing his brothers to be near him once more. Casey had to go home after that, but April was allowed to stay, just in case she was needed, even though Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo had started taking shifts watching over Leonardo.

When he spoke, everyone was ecstatic, despite how quiet and raspy his voice was.

Once they realized what he had said, the world seemed to stop, freezing in place.

No.

_No no no no no-_

"Whe-re am... I-?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry to anybody who gets emotional about stuff like this who actually read this fic-
> 
> _  
> **✨Welcome to the dark part of my mind, it takes up 5/6 of my waking thoughts every day✨**  
> _
> 
> Also, to the people who started reading this, hoping for a whumpier fic, a lot of angst will appear in the recovery until Leo figures out what it means to get help, and there's the usual stubbornness, so anybody who wanted a whumpier fic gets a whumpier fic, just not in the way they were expecting


End file.
